Let It Play
by HawkenWulf
Summary: True talent always shines bright, even on a small stage.
1. Chapter 1

**LET IT PLAY**

**Chapter One**

Jonathan gave his dog, Survivor, a pat on the head as he was on his way out. He walked towards the street corner near his house where the jeepneys that passed by Holy Redeemer High School usually waited for passengers. When he saw one that wasn't full, he flagged it down, got in, paid his fare, and then leaned back in his seat. He closed his eyes and took a catnap. It was a habit of his; since he was a little kid, he always fell asleep in moving vehicles. Luckily, he never missed his stop.

He reached the school in ten minutes. Next time, Jonathan thought, he would try walking. He greeted the security guard, who waved him inside. He headed for the faculty office, passing students in the corridors. Some of them greeted him and he responded in kind. He bounced up the stairs and entered the faculty room whistling an old song that he liked.

"Well, you look happy," the teacher whose desk was beside his remarked.

"Good morning, Melanie," he said with a grin. "Where's Chris?" Chris Corpuz was his friend, one of Holy Redeemer's Physical Education teachers and also its basketball coach. Melanie was his wife; she taught general sciences and mathematics.

"He's at the gym already," Melanie replied. "He wanted to run a few new drills with the players before he started classes today."

"Oh. Okay." Jonathan opened up his backpack and took out a couple of books. He opened his drawer and took out his lesson plan.

"Something for your students?" Melanie asked, gesturing towards the books.

"Yeah," Jonathan said. "I figure they're ready for them." He handed them over to Melanie, who looked at them critically. She thumbed through one.

"There's profanity in these stories?" she asked.

Jonathan nodded. "I'll try not to put too much emphasis on it."

"Just make sure that Mr. Delima doesn't find out," Melanie advised him. "By the way, there's going to be a meeting today around lunch time. Don't be absent like the last time."

Jonathan made a sour face. "Do I really have to be there?" he asked. If there was one thing he disliked, it was meetings. During his last job, the only reason he forced himself to sit through business meetings was because it was his money on the line. Now that he was working at Holy Redeemer, he usually scheduled student-teacher conferences to coincide with the meetings that Mr. Delima, the principal, held with the faculty. The first and only time he ever sat through one, he nearly fell asleep. Listening the the principal drone on and on inanely was a complete waste of time, in his opinion.

"Yes, you do," Melanie told him. "It's for the annual fund raiser for the school."

Jonathan put two white board markers in his shirt pocket. "Fund raiser?" he asked.

"Yeah," Melanie said. "Every year, the school holds a fund raising event—it's a talent show, actually. The proceeds go to improving facilities and upgrading equipment."

"Oh, yeah? That's cool," Jonathan said. "Well, I hope it turns out okay. I've got to go to class now." He picked up his gear.

Melanie picked up her lesson plan, markers, and textbook as well. "I'll go with you. I've got an early class myself." They left the faculty room together. Melanie noted that Jonathan wasn't wearing a uniform like her.

Jonathan snickered. "Hey, as long as my excuse not to wear one is valid, I'm going to enjoy it." He never did enjoy dress codes; in fact, he hated them. The way he put it, he had to obey a dress code for the better part of his formative years so, now that he had the option not to, he disdained it. He explained it to Mr. Delima as part of his other job, which was a "correspondent" for a magazine. What he didn't say was that it was just a part-time gig; he didn't tell the principal that it was the kind of magazine that would've been banned from the school either.

"When are you going to grow up?" Melanie asked in mock disappointment.

"I am grown up," Jonathan replied. "I took this eight-to-six gig, didn't I?"

Melanie was about to say something but stopped when they ran into another teacher. "Good morning, Ces," she greeted her colleague.

"Good morning, Mrs. Corpuz," Francesca Francisco replied with a smile. Like Jonathan, she was new to the school. Her area was music. Most of the male students were already flocking to her like moths to a flame because she was young, gorgeous, and quite obviously sexy. Unlike Melanie, who wore slacks with her uniform, Francesca wore a skirt that was just a notch above the knees. Her stockings flattered the shape of her legs. Jonathan, however, kept his "seen-it-all" face on and showed no overt reaction to Francesca's looks..

"Ces," Melanie said, "I told you that you can call me by my first name. It's not as if I'm that much older than you." Jonathan pretended to clear this throat. Melanie threw him a semi-annoyed look and then said: "By the way—meet another of our new faculty members. This is Jonathan Castillo."

"Good morning, ma'am," Jonathan said, nodding slightly. "I'm pleased to meet you." Melanie cocked an eyebrow upward as she watched him.

"Good morning, Mr. Castillo," Francesca said, smiling at Jonathan in a way that _almost _made his heart accelerate for a few beats. "What subject are you teaching?"

"I was assigned to English," Jonathan replied. "And you?"

"I teach music," Francesca said. "My gosh, I guess now I can ask someone else to teach me English. I usually ask Mrs. Corpuz or her husband."

"Well, let's see if we can arrange our schedules, ma'am," Jonathan said. "But your English isn't that bad, you know." Melanie had to cover her mouth to keep them from seeing the smirk on her face.

"Oh, it's not as good as yours," Francesca said. "You speak like an American."

Jonathan smiled at her politely. "Yes, well, that was a product of ten years of _Sesame Street_."

"Oh, my goodness—it's time for class," Melanie interjected. As much fun as it was to witness Jonathan making a fool of himself, she decided it was time to cut the getting-to-know you session short. "We'd better go."

"Ah1 Yes! That's right," Francesca said. "The students will be waiting for us."

"I'll see you at the faculty meeting later, Ces," Melanie told her. She grabbed Jonathan by his sleeve before he could so much as say "Goodbye" and dragged him down the hall. He took one last look as she headed for the stairway.

"Well, that didn't go over so badly," Melanie told him. "I thought you were going to make her squirm."

"Huh?" Jonathan frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You weren't exactly being friendly back there," Melanie remarked.

"Force of habit," Jonathan said. "Sue me."

"Your force of habit got you in trouble the last time you followed through with it," Melanie reminded him—and instantly regretted it. She stopped and touched his arm. "Oh, damn, I'm sorry. I meant—"

Jonathan smiled at her. She could see that it was ninety-eight percent happy, which was something. "It's okay," he told her. "I'm over it. It's just water under the bridge."

Melanie thought otherwise but decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. "All right. I'm sorry."

"I suppose Ces going to be doing something for the talent show?" Jonathan asked, changing the subject.

"I guess so," Melanie replied. "She is one of the music teachers."

"Yeah, that would make it compulsory for her," Jonathan said. He stopped in front of a classroom. "Well, this is where I get off. See you later, Mel." He touched knuckles with her, Freebird-style. Melanie wished him well for the day and then left.

Jonathan entered his classroom, asked for his students to quiet down, and was about to start the day's lesson when he spotted two empty places in the middle rows.

"All right," he asked, "where are Nico and Kelly?" Nico Katindig and Kelly Montes were one of the longest-running couples in the school, according to Melanie. Nico was one of those bad boy/good boy types while Kelly was the studious, sensitive type with a hidden wild streak that only Nico could bring out. In class, though, they were bright and fair-spoken. Of course, Kelly often coached Nico during review sessions but that didn't seem to bother either one of them. Certainly, Jonathan preferred that to Nico cheating during exams.

"Sir, don't you know?" Lorna Puyat asked him. "Today's Kelly's due date."

"Due date...?" Jonathan said, puzzled. And then it came to him: "Really? So Nico's at the hospital with her?"

"Yes, sir," Lorna replied.

"Good thing you reminded me." Jonathan sat on the edge of his desk. "When are you ladies and gentlemen going to visit her?"

"Well, sir," Mona Patubig said, "it's going to have to be after class. And not all of us can go so we're going to give Nico and Kelly this card." She and her classmates passed a beautiful hand-made card to him. Jonathan recognized the artwork immediately: Janie Tolentino, Jessmar Buan, and Alyssa Gamez undoubtedly worked on the card together. There were watercolor flowers, glitters, and elaborately lettered greetings. The blank spaces were rapidly being filled by the messages from everyone who knew Nico and Kelly.

"You haven't signed it yet, sir," Baldo de los Santos said. "There's still space at the top." He pointed to am unmarked place on the card. Jonathan took out his pen and scribbled a short message and then signed it. Then a strange smile came to him. All of a sudden, it was like he was autographing an album or a poster or a cassette for a fan all over again.

"What's so funny, sir?" Janie Tolentino asked.

"Just a memory," Jonathan told her. He was about to hand the card back to Jessmar when an idea came to him. He'd get in trouble with Melanie but, then again, Chris wasn't going to the meeting either. He had practice for a game. _Maybe I can ask him to cover for me_, Jonathan thought.

"Tell you what, ladies and gentlemen," he said. "Finish signing this up and then let me take the card to Kelly so that you don't have to skip lunch—or classes."

"Sir, I thought there was a faculty meeting at twelve-thirty?" Alyssa Gamez asked.

"Faculty meetings take place everyday," Jonathan explained. "But not all of my students give birth everyday—or at least none of you will be giving birth for the rest of the school year."

"I wouldn't mind giving birth to your baby, sir," Regino "Regine" Sandico spoke up. The class roared with laughter.

"When it becomes humanly possible to do that," Jonathan said, "I'll let you know. For now, let me have the card."

"_Ate_ Raquel, she's beautiful." Cielo Guzman stood beside Kelly Montes' bed in the Fabella maternity ward. She cradled her cousin's newborn daughter, Angelica Jasmine, in her arms, rocking her gently as she slept.

"Thank you, Cielo," Kelly said softly. On the table in front of her was her lunch which Cielo brought her. Cielo lived with Kelly and her parents since her own family was in Aklan. The two cousins were almost like sisters since their ages were relatively close to each other's. Kelly became Cielo's guide to high school life in Manila and her guardian whenever they were in school; Cielo, for her part, was Kelly's confidant and tutor. Cielo, in fact, had been there when Nico had come to their house to inform Kelly's parents of her pregnancy. The younger girl had been able to keep things from getting tense and even hostile. Now she was living up to her role as an aunt to Angelica Jasmine. Kelly smiled as she watched her cousin and her daughter. Cielo would undoubtedly play a significant role in bringing up her child.

"Her face is like a combination of yours and _Kuya_ Nico's," Cielo remarked. "But her eyes are definitely yours." She wiped Angelica Jasmine's lower lip with the edge of her blanket. The she began to sing to the child.

"Excuse me, Ms. Montes," Kelly heard someone say, "shouldn't you be in school today?" She looked up from her lunch and saw Jonathan standing at the foot of her bed.

"Oh, hello, sir!" she greeted him. "What are you doing here?"

"I decided to go home for lunch," he told her, "and I thought to myself that since Fabella was on the way home, I'd drop by and see how you were doing." He looked towards Cielo and the baby. "Is that the kid?"

"Yes, sir," Kelly said. "My daughter, Angelica Jasmine Montes Katindig." There was an unmistakable note of pride in her voice.

"I thought _today_ was your due date?" Jonathan asked.

"She didn't want to wait that long," Kelly explained. "She arrived almost before midnight last night."

"Reminds me of myself," Jonathan commented. "Mind if I take a look?" Kelly nodded. He went over to Cielo and peered into the blanket, pulling a fold down carefully to examine the baby's face. He took a playful sniff and touched it tentatively with a finger. After a few moments, he made his pronouncement: "Yup, she looks like a baby, all right."

"I certainly hope so," Kelly remarked. "I think it's no return, no exchange here too, sir."

Jonathan laughed. "Congratulations, Kelly," He hugged her briefly. "Here—your classmates wanted you to have this." He handed her the card. Kelly opened it and smiled as she saw her friends' work and their messages of love and support for her.

"This is so nice," Kelly said, tears coming to her eyes. "Tell them thanks and I'll be back as soon as my doctor tells me it's okay for me."

"No problem," Jonathan told her. "Don't think you're going to escape from me. I'll be waiting for you when you get back."

"Thanks, sir. I'll be ready then." She gestured towards her lunch. "Want something to eat, sir?"

"No, but thanks anyway, Kelly. I can get something on the way back to school." That was when he seemed to notice Cielo for the first time. Long, somewhat curly hair and cinnamon-colored complexion, eyeglasses...he asked her: "Pardon me, miss—aren't you in my freshman class?"

"Yes, sir," Cielo replied. "I just brought _Ate_ Kelly something to eat, sir," she explained. "I'm going to go back to school for my afternoon classes. I just have to wait for _Tita _Meding and _Kuya _Nico to arrive." _Tita _Meding was Kelly's mother. Since she lived closer to the hospital than Nico's parents, she was the one who usually watched over her daughter and granddaughter.

"Cool, freshman," Jonathan told her, smiling. "I'll wait with you. When Nico and Kelly's mum shows up, I'll escort you back to school."

"Sir, her name is Cielo," Kelly interjected. "She's my cousin."

"Is that right?" Jonathan tried to remember if he'd ever heard her speak in class. He had, as far as he could recall but, generally, she was a quiet kid. "You're the freshman who aces my essay tests, aren't you?"

Cielo blushed slightly: "Yes, sir."

"You're as smart as your cousin," was Jonathan's remark. "You're also less noisy."

"I'm not noisy in your class!" Kelly protested, picking up her fork and pretending to throw it at her teacher.

"Oh, yes, that's right," Jonathan corrected himself. "You're just mildly talkative." The fork flew but he caught it. "Watch it—you might hit the rug rat." Before Kelly could follow up with her spoon, her mother arrived with Nico in tow.

"Well, hello, Mrs. Montes," Jonathan greeted her. He took the things she'd brought from their house from her. "Let me help you with that."

"Thank you, Mr. Guerrera," Mrs. Montes said. "You've come to visit Raquel?"

"Yes, ma'am." He set down the stuff that Mrs. Montes had brought from her home on a table next to Kelly's bed, arranging them so as to minimize falling and other breakage-causing events. Nico helped him. "She's doing fine but I wouldn't hurry her back to school just yet."

"That means my honey's still on maternity leave," Nico said, kissing Kelly on the cheek. He cooed and tickled Angelica Jasmine lightly.

"You're correct, Mr. Katindig," Jonathan remarked. "You, on the other hand, are returning to class with me and your cousin-in-law-to-be here."

"Yes, sir," Nico said. "Did Coach Chris tell you I would be here?"

"No, your classmates told me," Jonathan said. "But Coach wants you to report to his office as soon as possible."

"Why?" Kelly wanted to know.

"He probably just wants to know how you two are holding up," Jonathan said. "Now come on—it's time to go back to school."

Nico heaved Cielo's bag over his shoulder. "Come on, Ciel," he said. "We don't want you to be late."

"All right." Cielo handed the baby over to Mrs. Montes. She kissed Angelica Jasmine on the forehead.

"Be careful on the way home later," Mrs. Montes told her.

"Yes, _Tita_." She kissed her _Ate_ on the cheek. "I'll come back after school."

"All right," Kelly said. "But eat dinner first and do your assignments."

Cielo nodded. "Okay." She followed Nico and Jonathan out of the maternity ward to the nearest jeepney terminal for the ride to school. Jonathan paid for the three of them. When they arrived, Nico and Cielo went to their respective classrooms. Jonathan, in the meantime, headed for the faculty room to get his things for the next class.

"Should I even ask where you went?" was Melanie's greeting when she saw him.

Jonathan tried to look and sound nonchalant: "Did I miss something?"

"Yes, you did,"Melanie said sternly.Then she grinned in a manner that gave Jonathan pause. "But of course, Mr. Delima said that he'd update you on what you missed personally."

"He can't do that," Jonathan protested."I've got class in a few minutes."

"He's talking to your students right now," Melanie told him gleefully, "so that won't be a problem."

"He can't do that—" Jonathan was about to say again when the phone on Melanie's desk rang. She picked it up, spoke to the person on the other end of the line briefly, then handed him the handset.

"Hello?" he said tentatively.

"Ah, Mr. Castillo, you've arrived," Mr.Delima said. "Would you please report to my office? I'd like to speak with you about something very important."

"Uh, sir, shouldn't I be checking on my junior class?" Jonathan asked."After all, they've got a paper due..."

"I handled that already, Mr.Castillo," the principal replied. "I'll be waiting. Please don't be tardy." With that, the line was cut. Jonathan handed the phone back to Melanie. "You'd think I was the only one who wasn't at that meeting," he remarked.

"Well, I guess I'll go find out what the chief wants." Jonathan buttoned up his polo shirt and ran a brush through his hair. "Do I look all right?"

"Presentable enough," Melanie said. "I'll ask the president of your junior class what happened. I know her anyway."

"Thanks, Mel," Jonathan said. "I owe you and Chris."

"You can pay for it with dinner later," Melanie suggested.

"You're on," he told her. "That way, I get a free ride home."

Melanie laughed. "No problem. Now get your hindquarters over to the principal's office."

Jonathan saluted her, tommy-style. "Yes, ma'am!" he said with a click of his heels.Then he right-faced and marched smartly out of the faculty office. When he got to the principal's office, the secretary told him to go inside.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Castillo," Mr. Delima greeted him. He gestured towards the chairs in front of his desk. "Please have a seat."

"Thank you, sir," Jonathan said, sitting himself down.

"You missed the meeting today, Mr. Castillo," the principal said. "I hope you don't mind telling me where you were."

"I was visiting Raquel Montes at the Fabella Medical Center, sir," Jonathan answered. "Today was supposed to be her due date but she delivered her baby the night before, actually."

"And how is Ms.Montes doing?" the principal asked.

"Quite well, sir," Jonathan replied. "Her baby is quite healthy too."

Mr.Delima looked at a document on his desk. "Ms.Montes was on the honor roll last year. I certainly hope she'll be able to make up for it next year."

"She will, sir." Jonathan paused. "Although I will be speaking with her about doing some schoolwork from her home."

The principal gave him a curious look. "Explain that please."

"Well, sir," Jonathan began, "I believe that Ms.Montes should be able to catch up with her classmates in a few days or so. My plan is to have her friends bring her the notes, exercises, and assignments for the day. She can e-mail it to me and I can check her progress."

"Do you think she can keep up with her academics that way, Mr. Castillo?" Mr. Delima wanted to know.

"There's a good enough chance that she can, sir." Jonathan eyed the principal squarely. "It's better than postponing her graduation. In any case, I'll be discussing it with her and her parents when I visit her again later. I think I can make a strong enough case for it and I think she can fulfill her part of the arrangement."

Mr. Delima thought about it for few moments. "All right, you can try this method, Mr. Castillo. But if it doesn't work, then Ms. Montes will just have to try again next year."

Jonathan nodded. "Thank you, sir."

"You're quite welcome." Mr. Delima changes topics: "Have either of the Corpuzes told you about our year-end activity, Mr. Castillo?"

"The talent show, sir?" Jonathan nodded. "Of course, sir. They said that it's the highlight of the school year or something to that effect." He smiled, hoping that he wasn't laying it on a bit too thick. He wanted to be out of the principal's office before his next class started.

"It is, Mr. Castillo. It's something that the entire school—from the administration down to the students, down to the maintenance staff, even—takes great pride in year after year." The principal leaned forward. "So I'm wondering what kind of contribution you might have in mind for the program. I asked the Corpuzes during the meeting but neither of them has any idea what you're planning to do."

Jonathan thought fast and came up with what he hoped was a solution to his dilemma: "I was thinking of covering the talent show, sir...for one of the magazines that I write for. It's a local music publication so I figure it might bring the show some publicity and maybe even some sponsors. If that's all right with you, of course."

"You plan to write an article—" Mr. Delima began but Jonathan interjected: "Maybe more than one, sir. I'll have to play it by ear, so to speak."

"Well, I think that's an interesting idea, Mr. Castillo," the principal said. "All right—you have my permission to cover the talent show from the preparations to the performance."

"Thank you, sir." Jonathan checked his watch. "Would it be all right if I left now? I've got to check on my students, sir."

"I sent your third year class to the library to do research for that paper you assigned them," Mr. Delima said. "You can find them there. Have a good day, Mr. Castillo. And thank you." The two men shook hands. Jonathan left the office, relieved that he had gotten away with his idea. Of course, he _would_ cover the talent show; after all, there was always the possibility he might actually uncover some new talent over the course of the next few months.

He was heading for the library when he heard someone call his name. He turned around and saw Francesca coming up behind him.

"Hello, Ms. Francisco," Jonathan greeted her. He gave her his pleasant smile.

"Hello, Mr. Castillo," Francesca said. "You were absent from the faculty meeting today."

"Yeah, I know," Jonathan admitted. "Mr. Delima spoke with me about that. But he understood when I told him that I visited a student of mine at the Fabella Medical Center."

"Oh? Is everything okay?" Francesca asked.

"Yeah, she just gave birth," Jonathan replied. "She's okay."

"So she's a mother now?" the music teacher remarked. "That's wonderful. Where's the father?"

Jonathan said: "The father was also a student of mine. He's in class right now."

Francesca nodded. "That's very good. At least he's not stopping his education. How about your student? Will she be able to get back to school?"

Jonathan shrugged. "Maybe. I'll see what I can do to help her. I'll have to speak with the other teachers about it, though."

"Who is your student, by the way?" Francesca asked. "Do I know her?"

"It's Raquel Montes," Jonathan replied. "She's a senior."

"Ah!" Francesca's face brightened up. "Yes, I know Raquel. She's one of the students I was hoping would be auditioning for the talent show."

"Is she good?" Jonathan asked.

Francesca nodded. "Mrs. Bunagan said that she's one of the best singers in the school. She also knows how to choreograph dance numbers."

"Is that right?" Jonathan thought about that. "Well, hopefully, you'll be able to find a replacement for her."

"That's what I'm hoping for during the auditions," Francesca said. "There will be a lot of students so maybe we can find a lot of talents for the show."

"There probably will be," Jonathan agreed.

Francesca asked him: "What did Mr. Delima ask you to do for the talent show?"

"Oh, that." Jonathan shrugged. "I kind of volunteered to cover the talent show for the magazine I write for."

"Really?" Francesca was delighted. "Wow, you're going to be writing about us. That's great!"

"Don't get too excited yet, Ms. Francisco—" Jonathan started to say; Francesca interrupted him to say: "Please, call me Francesca or Ces. You don't need to call me Ms. Francisco."

"Okay, um, Francesca," Jonathan corrected himself. "Anyway, don't get too excited yet. It's not as if we're going to have major press coverage or anything like that. I also have to run it through my editor first."

"Run it through?" Francesca looked at him "What do you mean?"

"I have to tell him about my idea first," Jonathan explained. "Then if he approves it, that's the only time I can cover the talent show."

"Oh, I see," Francesca said. "Well, in that case, I hope he approves your idea."

_So do I,_ Jonathan thought. _I sure as hell don't plan on performing, that's for sure._


	2. Chapter 2

"So—how does your niece look like?"

Cielo and her two best friends, Gina Homobono and Shira Dimaano, were in the school canteen, taking advantage of a short break between classes. They were eagerly plying her with questions about her _Ate _Raquel's newborn daughter. Kelly knew both Gina and Shira because they were the first two people from Holy Redeemer that befriended Cielo. Gina was about Cielo's age and was a consistent presence in the honor roll. Her mother was a teacher in the elementary level of Holy Redeemer. Shira, meanwhile, was more the "bad girl" type—a little rebellious and wild but a good person deep down. Her mother was paying for her education by working in a small hotel in Japan. The three girls met one another during enrollment while waiting for their documents to be processed. Cielo liked both of them immediately; Gina and Shira took a shine to her in return. When it turned out that they were in the same section, they grew even closer. Now they were practically inseparable. Cielo even introduced them to her _Ate_, who approved of their company after getting to know them during their visits to Kelly's house to do their assignments with her cousin.

"You mean _Ate_ Raquel's baby?" Cielo said.

Gina nodded. "What's her name?"

"Is she big or petite just like you?" Shira wanted to know.

"Her name is Angelica Jasmine," Cielo told them. "I think she's going to be as tall as _Ate_ Raquel—and just as beautiful too."

"Is that so? When can we see her?" Shira asked.

"Well, I'm going to visit her again after school once my assignments are all finished," Cielo replied. "You want to come with me?"

"We can do our assignments together," Gina suggested. "That way we don't have to wait too long for one another."

"Let's do it at my house," Shira added. "That way, we can try out the new PC that my mother sent me."

"You've got a PC now?" Gina asked.

"Well, it's a laptop but it works just as well," Shira said. "I also have an Internet connection at home now. But I don't have a printer yet."

"That's all right," Cielo said. "We can have it printed somewhere else."

"All right, so we're going to my house after school then." Shira looked at her empty bag of Nova chips and said: "I think I'm getting another one. You girls want anything?" When the others declined, Shira stood up and went to the nearest concessionaire to get some more junk food.

"By the way, Ciel," Gina asked, "will your _ate_ be back in time for the auditions for the talent show?"

Cielo thought about it. Given the time needed Kelly to recover and to adjust herself to taking care of Angelica Jasmine, she didn't think her cousin would be able to return to school for three weeks or so. Her reply was: "I don't think so but I'm sure she'll try. Why do you ask?"

"Well, last year, the older students said that she was the star of the show," Gina told her. "I'm sure she wouldn't want to miss performing this year."

"I know," Cielo remarked. "I saw the pictures and the videos that _Kuya_ Nico took while she was performing. I wish I could watch her this year."

"Well, if you want...why don't you audition with me and Shira?" Gina beamed happily at the thought of the three of them performing together. "Shira and I were planning to get Talina and Kaye to make a dance group. If you join us, we can do a song and dance number."

"Why me?" Cielo protested. "You and Shira dance well. I don't know how to dance."

"We can teach you," Gina said. "It's easy. Besides—you've got a good voice. I've heard you sing whenever we're at Mass. You can sing and we can back you up."

Cielo was still hesitant about making a decision. "I don't know, Gina...I've never performed in front of a lot of people before...I don't know if I can do it."

"You can't," a new voice spoke up. "You're a first year and first years can't carry a show by themselves." Cielo and Gina looked and saw Barbie Viceral standing by the table they were occupying. She was flanked by her two friends, Rita San Carlos and Brenda Katipon, and her face had that haughty look that everyone in the school was familiar with on a daily basis. Barbie was a senior just like her _Ate _Raquel and it was no secret that she and Kelly had an ongoing rivalry that stretched back to elementary school. It grew more heated when Kelly had auditioned for the talent show in her freshman year and was accepted; more than that, she became the hit of the show and the talk of the school. No matter how hard Barbie tried, she usually got relegated to supporting status—something that had gone on for the past three years.

"That's not true," argued Gina. "Cielo's _Ate _did it when she was in first year—"

Barbie cut her off immediately: "That was the past, as if you didn't know. But now that your dear _Ate_ got herself pregnant, I'm going to be the star of the show."

"Is that so?" Gina retorted. "Well, when Cielo, Shira, and I audition—"

Barbie cut Gina off again: "The three of you can do whatever you want. I'm still going to be the star. I can dance better than any of you and I can sing too."

"That is so true," Rita remarked. "Barbie has such an angelic voice," Brenda chimed in. Barbie nodded as if in approval of her friend's comments.

"Hah!" Shira said, causing Barbie to turn and confront her.

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Barbie demanded. She had her hands on her hips and was glaring at Shira as if her eyes could shoot lasers.

"It means that I'd put my money on us, if we were allowed to gamble," Shira explained. "We can dance better than you and Cielo is just as good as her _Ate—_maybe even better."

"Wait, that isn't true," Cielo tried to say but Shira continued: "You and your two friends here can audition if you want but so are we and we're going to be picked for the show—which is more than I can say for the three of you."

Barbie's glare turned from haughty to furious. Spots of color began to appear on her cheeks. She tried to say something witty but couldn't. So she resorted to her favorite taunt for Shira: "You Japayuki! How dare you—"

"What did you just call me?" Shira said, her own voice turning from nasty to deadly. "You'd better take that back if you know what's good for you, _Barbara_."

"Why should I?" Barbie demanded. "That's what your mother is and that's what you are. You should just drop out of school and go work as a Japayuki just like your mother!"

"All right—that's it!" Shira was almost in tears with anger. "I'm going to kill you—" She advanced menacingly on Barbie. Rita and Brenda backed away immediately, cringing in fear behind their leader, who didn't look all that willing to face Shira herself.

"Shira, stop it!" Cielo and Gina stepped in between their friend and her foe quickly. Gina told Barbie: "Back off, okay, Barbara? Just back off and leave Shira alone, all right?"

"Let me go!" Shira yelled. "I'll rip her hair off her head and stick it into her filthy mouth!" Cielo held her ground and kept her friend from moving any closer towards the three seniors. With neither Barbie nor Shira cooling down, however, hostilities were about to escalate. Fortunately, a cooler head prevailed in the form of Charlie Gonsalves. He was another senior who was working in the canteen as part of an agreement negotiated by Jonathan with Mr. Delima in order for him to say in school. Charlie used to run with one of the "fraternities" outside Holy Redeemer. After one scrape with authority too many, he was in danger of being expelled. Jonathan, however, stepped in and kept him from being kicked out.

"What's going on here?" Charlie asked.

"Charlie, that nasty girl is trying to hurt me," Barbie said, latching onto Charlie's arm. "She said she's going to kill me. Isn't that right, girls?" Rita and Brenda nodded in agreement.

"You started it!" Shira said. "You called me a Japayuki!"

"Look," Charlie said, extricating himself from Barbie's grip, "if you two want to fight, do it outside the canteen. I don't want to have to clean up any broken glasses or anything like that, okay?"

"Aren't you going to protect me, Charlie?" Barbie asked. "That girl might try to hurt me."

Shira threw her a disgusted look. "I'm not going to hurt her. I'm going to kill her—" Her anger, however, was dampened by Jonathan's arrival. He took a sip from a bottle of mineral water and asked nonchalantly: "Is this a private party or can anyone join?"

"I think these girls were just about to leave, sir," Charlie said. He fixed both Barbie and Shira a stern look. "After all, they aren't about to make a mess of the canteen while I'm here."

"I'll take the freshmen with me," Jonathan said. "After all, they've got a class with me in a couple of minutes."

Charlie shrugged. "Go right ahead, sir. I'll shoo these three out."

Jonathan gave him a polite nod before turning to Cielo and her friends. "Come on, first years. It's time to go." He walked towards the main door of the canteen, looking back only once. Cielo, Gina, and Shira took the hint and followed him silently.

Barbie watched them leave with a smug sense of satisfaction. Their English teacher was also hers; if she knew him correctly, he would probably give them a scolding that would sting them to the core. With that little matter taken care of, she refocused her attention towards Charlie. He'd turned his back on her and was clearing one of the tables. She approached him with her patented charming smile.

"Charlie..." she began. When he didn't respond, she said it a little louder: "Charlie...!"

"What?" he replied, his face showing more than a little annoyance.

"Thanks for protecting me from that little Japayuki," Barbie said. "She was really going to hurt me, you know. She's like that—she doesn't have any breeding—"

Charlie turned around and looked Barbie in the eye. "My _ate_ is working in Japan," he said evenly. "I guess that makes her a Japayuki too, huh?"

Barbie blushed and stammered: "Oh, uh...I didn't know...I..." Before she could say anymore, though, Charlie went back to what he was doing. After a while, Barbie left the canteen with Rita and Brenda in tow.

"Um, that didn't go so well, did it?" Brenda commented tentatively.

Barbie wheeled around, skewering Brenda with her eyes. "Oh, really? Tell me something I don't know, stupid!" Then she stomped off angrily. Some students actually moved out of her way.

"Nice going, Brenda," Rita said. "Now Barbie's even madder. That was real smart."

"How was I supposed to know?" Brenda protested. "And besides, you would've said the same thing—admit it."

"Not out loud," Rita told her. "And not while Barbie's upset."

"Are you two coming or not?" Barbie summoned them from down the ground floor corridor leading to their classroom.

"Coming!" Rita called back. Then she advised Brenda: "Just shut up for now, okay?"

"Okay, okay," Brenda said. "Now come on before she yells at both of us." They ran to where Barbie waited for them. She glared at them for delaying her but said nothing. Both Rita and Brenda breathed a sigh of relief at that.

Jonathan was at home, grading test papers in his study when he heard the doorbell ring. He tied Survivor to a post near the garden and then went outside to let Cielo, Gina, and Shira inside. He'd asked them to come over, ostensibly to help him with some work but, in actuality, to deal with the fight that had nearly broken out between Shira and Barbie. Letting his students come to his house was something he didn't think he'd ever do while he was on substitute-teacher duty but, apparently, there were more than a few of them who were often forced to cram when it came to reviewing for tests or doing assignments because they couldn't do it at home. He set some inviolable conditions for those who dared to come to his house, though: no alcohol or drugs; no weapons; no frat or gang allegiances; no sexual intimacy; no hogging of resources; and no questioning his authority. Those who objected could find another place to do their schoolwork. Surprisingly enough, those students who did show up obeyed his rules to the letter. Cielo, Gina, and Shira were among the more frequent visitors to what he began to call the "Holy Redeemer Study Annex".

"Good afternoon, ladies," he said. "Want some _meryenda_ or something to drink?"

"Maybe later, sir," Shira replied, sitting down at the table near the window closest to the garden. Jonathan looked at Gina, who shrugged. He took the hint.

"I'm glad you came here." He began to pass out some test papers to them. "Help me check these. Leave the essay part to me." Gina distributed the papers among herself and her friends evenly. They began to check them using the answer key that Jonathan gave them. They finished in less than an hour. Jonathan took back the papers and put them in separate folders. "Thank you," he told the three girls. "Are you going to visit Kelly at the hospital?"

"Yes, sir," Cielo replied.

"Do your homework first." He pointed towards the PC on the desk of his study. "Use that if you need to go online to research but no chatting. Take turns and do your own homework."

"Thanks, sir," Cielo said. She and her friends took out their textbooks and notebooks, buckling down to their assignments. Jonathan left them and went to the living room to make a couple of phone calls. When he was done, he went upstairs, grabbed his journal, and sat in the living room to work on one of his personal projects.

"Hey—look at this," Gina said. Shira and Cielo were at the table near the window, writing on sheets of yellow pad.

"Gina—stop looking at porn sites," Shira said jokingly, not looking up from her work. "Mr. Castillo will get mad at us."

"I'm not looking at porn," Gina said. "It's a bunch of photos of Mr. Castillo. I clicked on the My Pictures by mistake when I was trying to access what I saved for us from Wikipedia," she explained. "I saw something called Private Pictures. This is what came out."

"You naughty girl," Shira chided her. "What did you find—nude photos of our teacher?"

"No, Shira. Something else," Gina said. Her friends joined her at the PC and saw several photos of Mr. Castillo playing guitar onstage in what looked like a bar or a club of some kind. He was wearing a white t-shirt with some kind of logo on it, torn jeans, and combat boots. With him were the members of The Edge Of The Horizon, one of the Philippines' best rock bands.

"What's he doing?" Gina asked.

"What does it look like?" Shira said. "It looks like he's playing guitar for those guys. God, their vocalist is so good looking, isn't he?"

"I didn't know Mr. Castillo was with the Horizon," Cielo remarked.

"I didn't know he could play guitar," Gina added. The sound of Jonathan's footsteps heading towards the study, however, prevented them from learning anything more about this heretofore undiscovered talent of their teacher. Unfortunately, in her panic, Gina deleted the entire sub-folder. Very quickly, she shut the My Pictures window and called up the file she wanted just as Jonathan entered the study.

"You ladies done?" he asked them.

"Um, uh, almost, sir," Shira said.

"We just have to type our work," Cielo added. "May we borrow a disk to save our assignments in, please?"

"Sure," Jonathan said. "You'll find a whole bunch in the middle drawer to your left. Don't take too long—I'm making French toast for _meryenda_."

"We won't, sir," Gina assured him.

After Jonathan left them, Gina felt a rush of relief. "That was close," she said. "We'd better finish our work, girls."

"And don't open any more photo files," Cielo advised her.

"Yeah," Shira said. "Who knows what else you might delete?"

Gina nodded. "You girls go first. I just have to get my heart beating normally."

The three girls finished their assignments without any further incidents. When they were done, they left the study and saw Jonathan waiting in the living room with a large notebook on his lap. "Are you done?" he asked them.

"Yes, sir," Cielo answered.

"Good." Jonathan got up. "The two of you go to the dining table and get some French toast and carrot juice into you." The girls were about to do just that but he stopped Shira: "Not you, young lady. Get back in the study. I'd like to speak with you."

"Okay, sir," Shira said. She had a feeling this was coming. He was probably going to lecture her about fighting with other students. She returned to the study and waited for her teacher to join her.

"Do you think he's going to scold her?" Gina asked Cielo.

"I hope not," Cielo replied. "It really wasn't her fault, was it?"

"No, it wasn't," Gina agreed. She sat down on the living room sofa and Cielo joined her in waiting for their friend.

"So what happened back at the canteen?" Jonathan asked Shira as they sat at the table near the window.

"Sir, it was Barbie's fault," Shira began. "She's the one who started it. First, she was bullying Cielo and Gina. Then she called me and my mother 'Japayuki"." She clenched her fists in her lap as she remembered Barbie's insult.

"Your mother works in Japan, doesn't she?" Jonathan remarked. "She's an entertainer, if I'm not mistaken."

"Yes, sir, she is," Shira admitted. "But that doesn't mean she's a bad person. And just because she got pregnant by a Japanese man doesn't make her a prostitute..." At that point, Shira was still holding her emotions in check but Jonathan saw a tear fall onto her lap. He said nothing as she cried silently. When she was starting to regain control of herself again, that was when Jonathan spoke: "Shira, look at me."

She did so. Her eyes were red and she was still crying but there was more anger than pain in her face. _Good,_ Jonathan thought. Now he had to harness that anger.

"Do you love your mother?" he asked her.

"Of course I do, sir," Shira answered him. "That's why I try so hard to do well in school."

"No matter what other people say about her working in Japan?" Jonathan pressed her.

"She's not doing anything wrong so it's nobody else's business but ours," Shira said.

Jonathan smiled. "In that case, don't let people like Ms. Viceral get under your skin so much."

"Under my skin?" Shira asked uncertainly.

"I mean don't let her affect you so much," Jonathan explained. "She's the sort of girl whose bite is worse than her bark, at least face-to-face. Behind the back, though, she looks like the type who enjoys sticking knives in people."

"She is, sir," Shira agreed. "That's why a lot of our classmates don't like her so much."

Jonathan nodded. That was pretty obvious, he figured. "Well, be that as it may, don't let her psyche you out so much, okay? And no more fighting in school premises. You don't want to let your mother down by getting kicked out, do you?"

"No, of course I wouldn't want that, sir," Shira said. She was smiling now so things were probably all right, Jonathan thought. He handed her a box of tissue. She took it with thanks and dabbed at her eyes and face.

"You want to wash your face, you know where the bathroom is," Jonathan told her. "Now if we're done, let's eat." They exited the study together and saw Cielo and Gina in the living room.

Jonathan frowned at them. "I thought I told you two freshmen to get something to eat while I spoke with your friend?"

"We decided to wait, sir," Cielo said. "After all, Shira is our friend."

"In that case, you two set the table," Jonathan said. Cielo and Gina laid out four plates and Jonathan handed out knives and forks. Then he served the French toast that he'd made earlier.

"Is Shira going to get in trouble with Mr. Delima, sir?" Cielo asked.

"I don't think so," Jonathan replied. "But if she gets called into the principal's office, I'll speak up for her."

"Barbie started that fight, sir," Gina said. "Shira was just defending Cielo and her _Ate_."

"I know," Jonathan told her. "I saw enough to be able to say the same thing." He slid a bottle of syrup and a jar of blueberry jam towards Cielo. "Here, freshman—put these on your toast. It's one heck of an upgrade."

Cielo thanked her teacher and spooned some jam onto her toast. She declined the syrup and passed it to Shira, who drenched her food with it.

"You're going to get diabetes that way," Gina told her but Shira retorted: "It's what makes me sweet." The three friends laughed. Jonathan smiled, pleased with the sight of the strong bond between them. It reminded him of another time in his life when—

He cleared the thought from his mind quickly. Instead, he said: "In that case, add some blueberry jam, Shira—that should make it even sweeter."

"Sure, sir!" Shira grabbed the jar from Gina's side and began to slather her toast with it.

"It's amazing that she can eat so much and not get fat," Cielo said with a chuckle.

"I dance, remember?" Shira said. "By the way, sir—what are you doing for the talent show?"

Jonathan downed half a glass of juice. "Well, I talked to my editor and he still needs to hear my full idea for it but I think I'm going to be covering the entire thing for a magazine."

"Aren't you going to be performing?" Shira wanted to know. Gina almost coughed out her food. Cielo gently tapped her back with a flat palm. "Are you all right, Gina?" she asked.

"Y-yeah. Thanks," Gina replied, throwing Shira a somewhat annoyed look.

Jonathan didn't notice a thing. "Me? Perform? I can't sing. How about you three?"

"Well, Gina and I have been thinking of auditioning with a couple of our classmates as a dance group," Shira said. "We're trying to convince Cielo to join us so that we can have someone singing too."

Jonathan turned his attention to Cielo: "And what did you say?"

"I said I'd think about it, sir," Cielo answered. "I don't know if I can stand up in front of so many people."

"I know what you mean," Jonathan said. "It's not easy getting up in front of an audience and getting them to pay attention to you."

"But you do that everyday, sir," Cielo said. "I just sit in class."

"Classes are small compared to an auditorium full of people," Jonathan told her. "And you have to pay attention to me or I'll flunk you all."

"I still have to think about it, sir," Cielo said.

"Fair enough, as far as I'm concerned." Jonathan picked up his empty plate. "Take your dishes to the sink and I'll wash them. I hope you don't mind if I accompany you and visit Kelly too."

"Not at all, sir," Cielo said. "Let me do the dishes. It's the least we could do for you for letting us use your PC."

Jonathan smiled. "Okay. I'll go get dressed. Just put the dishes and the other stuff in that basin to dry. I'll handle the frying pan when I get back home."

Cielo washed the dishes, Gina dried them, and Shira put them away. The frying pan they left in the sink with water and a little dishwashing liquid in it to help soften whatever got stuck to it while their teacher was cooking.

Jonathan came downstairs several minutes later. He appeared to have taken a bath. "All set?" he asked. They nodded. One jeepney ride later and they were at Fabella. They arrived just in time to see Nico and having dinner with Kelly. Nico's mother carried Angelica Jasmine in her arms.

"Good evening, seniors," Jonathan greeted them. "Good evening, Mrs. Katindig. I brought over some company if you don't mind."

"Hello, _Ate _Raquel!" Gina and Shira went up to Kelly and kissed her on the cheek. "How are you doing?" they wanted to know.

"I'm fine," Kelly replied. "I'll probably be released in a couple of days. Have you come here to see the baby?"

"Yes, they are," Cielo said. "Since they're going to be Angelica Jasmine's godmothers when she's baptized, they ought to see how beautiful their _inaanak_ is."

"Show them our daughter, _nanay_," Nico told his mother. Mrs. Katindig let Gina and Shira approach Angelica Jasmine. They oohed and aahed as they looked at the little girl in Mrs. Katindig's arms.

"She's so beautiful," Shira said as the baby held her forefinger in her hand.

"She looks like Cielo," Gina added.

While the two girls were fussing over Angelica Jasmine, Jonathan went over to his two fourth-year students. "Hey, Nico—you got off early today," he observed.

"Coach Chris told me I didn't have to stay for scrimmage during the afternoons," Nico explained. "But I still have to attend practice during the mornings and do drills after class with the team."

Jonathan asked: "I guess that means you're benched for the season, huh?"

"Well, that all depends on Coach," Nico said. "I wish I could play but I get to focus on my studies and my two girls here. I do get to work with the second team, though. Sort of like an assistant coach."

"Well, you're good at what you do," Jonathan said. "Kelly, I've talked to some of your teachers and I think they're going to agree with me on my plan to let you do some schoolwork at home. Of course, you'll have to e-mail it to me within the deadline I give you."

"That's not going to be a problem once I get back home, sir," Kelly assured him. "And I do want to graduate on time, if it's possible."

"Well, we're going to see what we can do to make that happen," Jonathan told her. "And that goes for you too, Nico."

"Thank you, sir," Kelly said, squeezing her teacher's hand gently.

"We really appreciate all your help, sir," Nico said, grinning somewhat sheepishly.

"You're my students," Jonathan said. "What did you expect me to do?"

"By the way, sir," Nico said, "Coach wanted me to remind you that you were going to meet him and Mrs. Corpuz tonight."

"I know but thanks for reminding me. Where did they say we were supposed to meet?" Jonathan asked.

"At SM Manila, sir," Nico informed him. "They'll be there at about seven."

Jonathan checked his watch; he had half an hour to get there. "In that case, I think I'll be leaving already so I don't get stuck in traffic." He clapped Nico on the shoulder lightly. "I'll see you in class tomorrow, senior. Kelly—I'll finish speaking with your other teachers tomorrow." He turned towards Cielo, Gina, and Shira: "Hey, freshmen—don't stay out so late. You've got an early class with me tomorrow. Got it?"

"Yes, sir," Cielo said. "We'll be there."

Jonathan nodded. "You'd better, freshman. Goodbye, Mrs. Katindig. Take care, all of you." He waved at them on his way out of the ward. Luckily, once he was at Rizal Avenue, a jeepney going his way parked almost directly in front of him. He hopped into the front seat, paid his fare, and sat back to enjoy the trip.


	3. Chapter 3

Jonathan arrived at the mall where Chris and Melanie were waiting for him a good fifteen minutes ahead of schedule. He thought about how to kill time, debating whether he should go on-line or just hit the National Book Store. He settled on the latter and found that he'd made the right choice when he came out with a new book in his possession.

He went downstairs to get a drink of water and saw a face in the crowd that was starting to get very familiar. He went up to her as she was lining up to buy a lottery ticket.

Francesca was quietly waiting for the line to move so she could by a lottery ticket when she heard someone say to her: "You know something? We've got to stop meeting like this." She looked behind her and saw Jonathan standing there, grinning at her.

"Oh, it's you, Mr. Castillo," Francesca said. Then she asked: "But why don't you want to meet me anymore?"

Jonathan wondered briefly what Francesca was asking him about. "That's not what I meant, Francesca," he said, recalling his last statement. "That was a figure of speech. What I meant was that it's funny the way we keep running into each other."

She smiled as understanding came to her. "Ah, I see. So what are you doing here, Mr. Castillo?"

"I'm meeting Chris and Melanie—Coach and Mrs. Corpuz—for dinner," Jonathan explained. "How about you?"

"I just went to the grocery and now I'm on my way home," Francesca told him. "But I'm going to get a Lotto ticket first. You never know, I might get lucky." She moved up to the counter, got her ticket, and paid for it. She put it carefully in her wallet.

Jonathan picked up her grocery bags. "Let me get those for you."

"Thank you, Mr. Castillo," Francesca said. "You're such a gentleman."

"Hey, hang on a minute," Jonathan said. "If I get to call you Francesca, then you get to call me Jonathan, okay?"

Francesca nodded. "Okay. Calling you Mr. Castillo makes me feel like I'm talking to an old man."

"Well, I am older than you—but not that old." Jonathan set the grocery bags down near the stairs leading up to the mall's ground level. "Where are you going now?"

"Home," Francesca replied. "I have to make dinner and then review my lesson plan for tomorrow. I also have to get the audition schedules ready."

"You're starting auditions already?"

"By tomorrow, we'll make the announcement that the auditions are starting."

Jonathan nodded. "Well, I hope there's going to be a lot of students joining in on the fun." He paused a moment or two and then said: "Francesca, why don't you come and have dinner with me and the Corpuzes?"

"What?" Francesca asked.

"Have dinner with me and the Corpuzes," Jonathan repeated.

"Oh, no, I couldn't" Francesca said. "Besides, I can eat at home—"

"Why eat at home when you can eat with us?" Jonathan asked. "Besides, it's my treat. Come on."

Francesca was still hesitant. "I don't know..."

Jonathan persisted: "This way when you get home, you don't have to worry about doing your work on an empty stomach."

"Well...okay," Francesca finally agreed. At that moment, Jonathan's phone beeped. He took it out of his belt pouch and read the message in his inbox. It was from Chris; he and Melanie were already waiting at the restaurant he'd specified. He sent them a reply telling them that he was on the way.

"All right—and just in time too," Jonathan said merrily. "Coach and Melanie are already here. What say we go over to where they are?"

"Okay," Francesca agreed. "I think they'll be surprised."

"Maybe," Jonathan said. "By the way, I hope you don't mind Japanese food."

"Oh, of course not!" Francesca told him. "I love Japanese food."

"Oh, good," Jonathan said. "In that case, you're in for a treat."

"He says he's on his way," Chris told Melanie, reading the message that came from Jonathan.

"Good," Melanie remarked. "He's early."

"Yeah, that's a bit of a change." Chris took a sip of his Coke. "He lost his sense of punctuality after we went our separate ways."

"Good thing he's learning all over again," Melanie said. "It must have been tough for him." She'd known Jonathan from when he and Chris worked together and she already knew most of the stories surrounding the events that took place before their paths crossed again. Still, she had a feeling that there was still more than that. Jonathan, of course, played his cards close, refusing to dwell on those events.

"It was," Chris said. "Like I usually tell you, that was a good part of his life gone. I'm just glad we found a way to help him."

"He's not really into it, though, is he?" Melanie asked.

"If you mean missing meetings and things like that," Chris replied, "well, that's just the way he is. He didn't like having to sit down and bother over things that he thought weren't really all that important."

"I think he's just avoiding the talent show," Melanie pointed out.

"Maybe he is," Chris agreed. "But I'd rather not force him into it. I think that if he finds a good reason to get really involved, he will."

"I think he may have found all the reason he needs," Melanie observed. She gestured towards the restaurant's main entrance. She and Chris watched as Jonathan approached them with a couple of grocery bags in hand and Francesca right behind him.

"Hi, guys," Jonathan greeted them. "I hope you don't mind—I invited Francesca to join us for dinner."

"Not at all," Chris said. "Have a seat, Ces. We're glad you could join us." Melanie immediately stood up and sat down next to her husband so that Jonathan and Francesca would be sitting next to each other. Then she called over a waiter to bring them a menu. After placing their orders, Chris called for another round of iced tea. "So—what are you doing for the talent show, old buddy?" he asked Jonathan.

"He's going to write about it for a magazine," Francesca proudly told Chris and Melanie even before Jonathan could say anything. "He said he'd run it to his editor—"

"Run it _through_ his editor," Melanie corrected her. "Or run it _by_ his editor, Ces."

"Oh, I'm sorry for that," Francesca said. "He said he'd run it through his editor and then he'd start writing during the auditions."

"Is that right?" Melanie asked Jonathan.

"Uh, yeah," he replied, throwing a brief glance of annoyance at Francesca, who either didn't notice or didn't care. "I figured it was the least I could do. Good thing Mr. Delima agreed."

"Of course he would agree," Francesca said. "After all, that means there will be media coverage of the program."

"Well, don't count on that just yet," Chris told her. "After all, it's not like Jonathan's going to be bringing TV cameras with him. But it does give the school a chance to promote the talent show."

"Which is a good thing, more or less," Jonathan agreed, although he was thinking privately, _Assuming there's anything worth promoting._

"Yes, it is," Francesca said. "This way, the people who read your work will see that there's more than bad news coming from the school. Isn't that right, Ma'am Melanie?"

"That's right," Melanie agreed. Among the four of them, she was the one who held the longest tenure in Holy Redeemer. She'd seen the school's worst times when there was at least one violent incident that took place inside the campus itself (usually involving the warring fraternities) on a school day and then, after classes were over, another incident would occur outside the school grounds. Some students had been thrown in jail, even though they were minors, because of their participation in those incidents. Mercifully, the dropout rate was kept to a minimum because most of the students regarded Holy Redeemer as a sanctuary from the trouble they faced. The few students they lost were quickly replaced. That didn't make it any easier for Melanie, though. She was always a firm believer that teachers are also second parents so it hit her hard when one of her own had to leave school for any reason.

"Well, it's not all bad news anymore," Chris chimed in. He reached under the table and squeezed his wife's hand gently. "There's been a lot of good going on too." Melanie smiled at her husband. When he came to Holy Redeemer, he quickly became a key player in turning things around for the students. He took over the junior varsity program and was, for a time, the head coach for football, track and field, and basketball. When he found the proper personnel to take over for him in the other sports, he finally focused his attention on the basketball team. Under his guidance, the team became a second family for the boys who played for the school. They helped keep each other out of trouble and in school. When Chris finally got put into the Physical Education department, he reached out to the neighborhood authorities and began holding semi-regular sports clinics for the kids from the areas surrounding the school. This not only started a closer cooperative relationship between Holy Redeemer and the neighborhoods within the vicinity, it also brought him talented young recruits who might otherwise have gone unnoticed. Within a few weeks' time, the faculty and administration were holding special classes for those adults who wished to work towards attaining a high school diploma, at least. Before long, the school had become part of the nearby communities' lives.

"Well, like they say, you take the good and the bad together," Jonathan remarked. "It's not perfect but it works pretty much most of the time."

"I'll say it does," Chris said. He raised his glass and Jonathan clinked his against it. Melanie and Francesca did the same.

When their food arrived, Jonathan was a little surprised when Francesca didn't ask for a spoon and fork to eat her _ramen_ with like he expected she would. She used a pair of chopsticks just like the three of them did.

"How'd you learn to eat noodles that fast?" he finally asked her while she was having her glass refilled.

"Oh, I was actually going to go and work in Japan," Francesca replied. "I was already in training but when my licensure exam results came out and I passed, I decided not to go anymore." She smiled sheepishly. "Besides, I couldn't learn Japanese as well as I needed to in order to work there. Good thing my aunt owned the talent agency so she refunded part of my training expenses. She said I should be a teacher instead since we need teachers more than Japan needs entertainers."

"She's right," Jonathan said. "There are too many people who are just willing to sell their souls for a plane ticket out of here."

"But don't you want to work abroad?" Francesca asked him.

Jonathan looked down at his glass: "To be honest, I would but I wouldn't migrate for anything in the world. I take the same view as my father did: I was born here so why should I live anywhere else? So I'd rather work here above all else."

Melanie squeezed Chris' hand underneath the table; he shook his head surreptitiously.

"So you're a true Filipino," Francesca remarked. "That's nice."

"I just like it here better than anywhere else," Jonathan told her. He shrugged. "It's home."

"Yes, it is," Francesca agreed.

After dinner, Francesca was about to part company with her three fellow teachers but Jonathan insisted that she ride home with them. "That way, you don't have to commute for too long," he said.

"But I don't live that far from here," Francesca protested. "I could even walk if I wanted."

"And get mugged?" Jonathan pointed out.

"Mugged?" Francesca frowned.. "What does that mean?"

"It means if you walk at this time of the night, you might get held up and robbed," Jonathan explained. "Maybe even assaulted, what with you looking hot and all that."

"I look hot?" Francesca wanted to know.

"Yes, you do," Jonathan replied. "So come on—for my own peace of mind, please ride with us."

Francesca tried to think about it but all she could seem to focus on was his calling her hot. Part of her wanted to blush; the other part wanted her to kiss him. Luckily, she kept herself from doing either act. Instead she said: "All right. I'll go with you."

"He called her hot," Chris remarked as he and Melanie walked just ahead of Jonathan and Francesca.

"I heard," Melanie said. "He's either flirting or he's just talking at random again."

"Well, let's find out, huh?" Chris told his wife with a smile. When they reached the parking garage, he had Melanie sit up front. Normally, Jonathan sat beside Chris whenever they were driving around; when Melanie came with them, she sat in the back. He didn't seem to notice that he'd been maneuvered into sitting alongside Francesca.

"When are you getting seat belts that work for the back seat?" Jonathan asked.

"Just dig them out," Chris said. "It's not as if you need them anyway. You're not the one who'll get hit first in a head-on crash."

"Yeah—I'll just fly through the windshield out onto the hood," Jonathan retorted. "I repeat, man—get seat belts for the back. You and Mel might have kids one day so you should be thinking about keeping them safe when they cruise with you."

"We'll have them installed after next payday," Melanie told him. "Thanks for reminding us again." She looked in the mirror tied to the sun visor in front of her and saw that Jonathan had made more than enough room for Francesca to sit down. He'd placed her groceries between them.

"What is this stuff anyway?" Jonathan peeped into one of the bags. He saw vegetables, fresh meat, and fish. "You intend to cook all this?"

"Of course," Francesca answered him. "I like to be able to cook dinner for my family, you know."

Jonathan rummaged through a bag with chips and instant noodles in it. "You still live with your parents?"

Francesca nodded. "Yes. What about you?"

"My parents are dead," Jonathan said. "I live alone. Well, okay—I have a dog."

"A dog? What kind?" Francesca asked.

"Transylvanian forest stalker hound," Jonathan replied in a deadpan tone.

"Oh! He's imported?" Francesca said.

"He's just kidding you, Ces," Melanie interjected. "His dog's an _askal_, plain and simple."

"So he was born here," Jonathan argued, "but he's got unique markings."

"He looks like he's wearing a mask," Chris chimed in.

"Oh, that's so cute! I hope you can let me see your dog," Francesca said.

Jonathan gave her a lopsided grin. "Sure—come on over to my house sometime. Where do you live anyway?"

"Near here," Francesca told him. "Just after the intersection at the bottom of the bridge."

"What bridge?" Jonathan asked.

"The one behind the mall," Francesca replied. "I just forgot the name."

"I know where that is," Jonathan said. "In that case, you get to see where I live. I think it's better if I get dropped off first."

"Looks like it, man," Chris said, easing the car into traffic. "That way you also don't have an excuse for showing up late by saying you got home late."

"Hey—I haven't been late for longer than even I thought possible," Jonathan protested. "You should see the look on Survivor's face when he sees me up with the sun. The first few times he thought I was an impostor."

Even with traffic, it took just twenty minutes for Chris to arrive at Jonathan's house.

"Ah, home sweet home," Jonathan told his friend. "Thanks for the ride as always, my man." He was about to get out through the street-side door but Francesca beat him by getting out on the curb side. "Ah, thank you, Francesca." He exited the car and was about to head straight for his house but Francesca stopped him.

"Thanks for inviting me to dinner with you, Jonathan," she said. "I enjoyed myself."

Jonathan shrugged. "You're welcome. Good luck with the auditions."

"Thanks," Francesca said. "You'll be there, won't you? To cover it for your magazine?"

"Well, yeah," Jonathan said. "I guess I will. I just hope the students who audition will be good."

Francesca nodded, saying, "We won't know until we hear them, right?"

"True. Anyway, get out of here. I'll see you in school tomorrow." Jonathan started backing up towards his house. He waved at her and to his two friends. "I'll see you guys. Drive safely now, okay?"

"Sure, man!" Chris yelled from the driver' seat.

"Good night, Jonathan," Francesca whispered before getting inside the car once more. He waved at them again, watching them leave until they were out of sight.

Jonathan spent the next couple of hours going over some topics that he wanted to discuss with his fourth-year class tomorrow. He also reviewed his proposal to the teachers he still needed to discuss Kelly's "home study" plan with the next day. When all his work-related activity was done, he put his notes and textbooks aside. He took out his journal and set it on the table next to him. Then he went over to the closet where he kept his last two guitars. He had a few more way back when but now he was down to the guitar his dad and his uncles used to own (he wound up with it partially by default and partially by good luck) and the very first electric guitar that he bought. For some reason, he felt like tooling around with some music. He ran his fingers randomly across the strings. Instinct, years of practice, and his own creativity kicked in and, before he knew it, he was actually picking something original out of his instrument.

_Well, you've still got it, if ever you decide to use it again,_ he thought.

_I _do_ still use it, _another part of him said. _I still play from time to time._

_And there was a time when you couldn't wait to get up in the morning and start playing,_ a strident yet not unkind voice in his head spoke up. _Remember those days?_

Those were good days, Jonathan knew. Jam, play, party, rock hard—he was living his childhood dream. But at a certain point, it all ground to a halt. It hurt, there was no denying that, but he figured that he was over it. And he _was_ still playing for friends. The night before he started work at Holy Redeemer, in fact, he was at a gig with some of the guys that he'd hung out with during the good days. According to them, he played an awesome set but he didn't stick around to celebrate for too long. He went home early so that he could get to the school without missing a single class.

Jonathan couldn't help but remember that particular gig. All throughout their set, he was playing as if nothing else mattered in the world. Whether he was doing rhythm or lead, he made his guitar walk, talk, scream, shout, cry, and weep. Pretty soon, the crowd at the club was chanting his name and his band's name. He and his friends did two encores before he could make his getaway. In a way, it was like the good days—like that time in Los Angeles, for example. Or San Francisco. Or Vancouver. Or Tokyo. Or all those other nights when the music meant to him more than life itself—or, more to the point, when music became life itself , like he was standing in the center of the universe and he was moving the stars and the planets, arranging and rearranging the galaxies, when the future itself seemed not so far away.

His fingers tightened around his guitar's neck. _What I wouldn't give for those days..._he found himself wishing before he caught himself. He ran a chop down the strings angrily. Whether or not he liked it, those days were over, at least the way he knew them. No more riding high on his music. From here on in, music was strictly a sideline, at best.

But then, that wasn't so bad, was it? He'd had the good days—a long, long stretch of them. He'd seen what it was like, seen the good and the bad, seen the upside and downside. He had his time in the sun so wasn't it just right that he should step aside already and find something else to do?

That sounded logical except for one thing that gnawed daily at Jonathan's heart: he knew that their time hadn't been up when it ended. If anything, it was stolen from them by the one person that he figured he could trust, the one person whom he thought loved the music as much as he did. As it turned out, that person loved something—_and someone,_ his mind couldn't resist adding—more than the music. And because of him, the dream came to an end before its time.

_Stop it, _he told himself. _This isn't going to do you any good. Just remember: you _can_ still play if you want. He can't. Or, at least, he won't anymore. Which, when you think about it, is the same thing, isn't it​?_

That was most certainly true, Jonathan thought. But it certainly didn't take the gnawing in his heart away. He doubted if anything ever would.

At around twelve, he put his guitar away. Despite the troubled walk down memory lane, he was able to write something down in his journal—he didn't know what the chords amounted to just yet but maybe it was something he could put together. Maybe he could sell it to someone who was looking for a little music. Or maybe, just maybe, he thought, he could use it himself.

He was getting ready for bed when his cell phone beeped. He picked it up and read the message.

_**Hello, Jonathan,**_ it read. **_Are you asleep already? _**It was signed _**Ces**_.

_**Not yet,**_ he replied. **_And what are _you_ still doing up? _**

_**I was just finishing my lesson plan for tomorrow,**_ Francesca explained. **_How about you?_**

_**Same thing,**_ was Jonathan's answer. **_School stuff. _**

_**Have Coach and Ma'am Melanie called you up?**_ Francesca wanted to know.

_**No,**_ Jonathan told her. **_Why?_**

_**Because they were teasing me about you on the way home,**_ Francesca explained. **_They said you have no girlfriend. _**She sent that message first and then, a few moments later, added: _**Is that true​?**_

_**Is what true?**_ Jonathan asked.

_**That you have no girlfriend,**_ Francesca said by way of clarification.

_**Nope,**_ Jonathan told her.

_**Why not? **_Francesca asked.**_ You seem like the kind of guy that girls like._**

_**It's a long story,**_ Jonathan said and found himself adding: **_Maybe I can tell it to you sometime after class again. Over dinner or something like that._**

_**Are you asking me out, Mr. Castillo?**_ Francesca wanted to know. She put a smiley-face emoticon at the end of her question.

Jonathan thought about it before sending his reply: **_That depends. Are you free to be asked out?_**

Francesca asked him: **_What does that mean?_**

Jonathan decided not to mince words: **_I mean if you're free to hang out with me like Coach and Mel do, then, yeah, I am asking you out._**

Francesca fell back into her bed, trying not to make a loud noise. Her sister and her mother were asleep already and she didn't want them rushing into her room, wondering what she was doing. She told Jonathan: **_Okay. Just let me know when you want to go out and hang out. _**She added another emoticon at the end of her message: **:D**.

_**Sure,**_ Jonathan said. **_No problem. Now you should go to bed. You've got morning class tomorrow._**

_**Thanks, I will,**_ Francesca told him. **_You should go to sleep with me too._**

Jonathan forced himself to ignore her grammatical error. He'd just correct her tomorrow. **_You go ahead. I have to patrol the city and prevent crime. _**

_**Why? **_Francesca asked. **_Are you a policeman?_**

_**No—I'm Batman,**_ Jonathan confessed. **_Hahahahaha!_**

With a smile on her face, Francesca said: **_Hahaha. Yeah, right, sure. Good night, Jonathan. See you at school._**

_**I'll be there,**_ Jonathan said. **_Good night, Francesca. God bless and keep you always. _**

_**Thank you,**_ Francesca replied. **_You too._**

With that, Jonathan turned off his phone and set his alarm clock. He fell into bed, thinking about the chords in his journal—and about Francesca. Maybe he would attend the auditions; after all, if he was going to make some kind of effort at covering the talent show, he should cover the entire thing from start to finish. Maybe he could even find someone talented enough to give the chords in his journal justice when he was done fiddling with it. _Kelly's cousin..._Jonathan was hoping that Kelly could still take part in the show but if Cielo was as good as Gina and Shira were making her out to be, well...maybe, just maybe

He fell asleep dreaming about the last gig he had before he became a teacher. Once again, he could hear the crowds cheering for him as he wielded his guitar like a starlit sword in the night.


	4. Chapter 4

Jonathan sat in the canteen, reviewing his notes about the auditions. It was already Wednesday; according to Francesca, the auditions would end on Friday. He still hadn't seen any sign of Shira, Gina, or Cielo. He wondered if they had changed their minds about trying out for the show. _Too bad,_ he thought. _That would've made things a bit livelier._ He'd seen the quality of the aspiring performers and, truth be told, they weren't all as bad as he thought they might be. Of course, he had a feeling that if he heard anyone singing anything by Celine Dion, Mariah Carrey, or Regine Velasquez within the next couple of days, he'd go on a rampage.

As he was trying to make a coherent article out of his notes, he noticed a bottle of Tropicana orange juice slide into his field of vision. He looked up and saw Charlie standing across the table.

"Don't you have class?" Charlie asked with his usual wry smile.

"Not for half an hour," Jonathan replied. "What's on your mind?"

"Well, the thing is..." Charlie began tentatively, dropping his too-tough pose slightly, and then said a bit more steadily: "Mind if I go jam with you at your house after class?"

"Jam with me?" Jonathan leaned back in his chair and eyed Charlie suspiciously. "What's this all about?" Charlie was another semi-regular guest at Jonathan's house and the only student he had who knew about his background. He usually went when he knew that there were no other students present, preferring to study or play guitar alone. When Jonathan noticed that he had more than a little talent for it, he brought out his own guitar and they started jamming together. From time to time, some of Jonathan's old friends came over. After watching Charlie play, they never failed to compliment him on his ability—and tease Jonathan about reforming his band with Charlie as his side man.

"I was thinking about, you know, auditioning," Charlie told him. "I need a place to practice because things get busy at home."

"And what's that got to do with me?" Jonathan asked. "Why do I have to practice with you?"

"Because you play good, sir," Charlie said. Using "sir" meant that he was serious, Jonathan knew. But there was probably more than that so he waited until Charlie added: "And I was hoping maybe you could play alongside me during the show."

"Assuming you pass the audition," Jonathan said.

Charlie nodded. "Yeah, but I think I can do it. Besides, sir, don't you feel like playing in front of people again? It's been years since you did that. Don't you miss it?"

Jonathan thought about it briefly. "Nope. But you can come over later anyway. But I've got visitors coming so try not to make a jackass of yourself, okay?"

Charlie grinned. "Who's coming? Some more bands?"

"Just one," Jonathan said. "A couple of old friends of mine on the comeback trail. You ever heard of Wild Heart?"

"Yeah!" Charlie said. "They had that huge hit…what was the title? 'The River And The Sun', right? They're coming over to your house later to jam with you?"

Jonathan shrugged noncommittally. "Yeah, that's right. Maybe we might even work on a new song. But they aren't the only ones coming. A few freshmen are coming over to rehearse their audition piece too. They're the ones who almost got into a fight with Barbara Viceral and her two idiot sidekicks."

"Oh, okay." The incident barely registered in Charlie's memory anymore. He had other things to think about. "What time are they coming?"

"After classes, of course. As for my friends, they're picking me up here. You can ride with us if your day's done by then." Jonathan checked his watch. "Speaking of which, it's time to get to work. Thanks for the juice. If you're coming along, meet me outside the school at four."

"If I can't make it, I'll just commute, sir," Charlie said.

"See you later then." Jonathan unscrewed the cap off the bottle and took a sip as he left the canteen. A little past the administration building, he bumped into Francesca.

"Whoa, sorry about that," he said, reaching out instinctively to steady her. "You all right?"

"Yes, thank you," Francesca said. "I'm sorry—I didn't see you, Jonathan."

"Same here," Jonathan said. He abruptly noticed that he was still holding on to her arms and let her go. "Let me get these for you." He picked up a sheaf of papers and a folder that had fallen from Francesca's hands. "What are these—evaluation forms from the auditions?"

"Yes," Francesca said. "I was reading them so that's why I bumped you."

He handed the folder back to her, thinking, _Good thing I didn't spill any juice on her. _

"Found any good ones yet?"

"There are some who will probably be chosen," Francesca said. "But I still have to read through these again." Then she asked: "You were at the auditions too, right?"

"Uh-huh," Jonathan said. "Why do you ask?"

"Who do you think will be accepted?"

"Well, I didn't see all the performers," Jonathan said carefully. "But you're right—there are a bunch of good ones and it's going to be very hard to pick and choose from them." He took something out of his shirt pocket. "Luckily, I videotaped them."

"You did?" Francesca asked. "Can I watch it? That way, it will help me to determine who really belongs in the talent show."

"Sure but maybe we should wait until the auditions are over, Francesca."

"Well, all right. That would be better. It's a good thing you brought that videocam with you."

"I figured I might need it." Jonathan put the camera back in his shirt pocket. That was when he noticed that he was outside his classroom already. "Well, this is where I get off."

"Get off from what?" Francesca asked.

Jonathan shook his head and smiled at her. "I'll explain next time. I guess I'll see you at the auditions again."

"Yes, that would be nice." Francesca smiled back at him. "Have a nice day, Jonathan." She waved at him as she walked away. He waved back and then went inside the room. Right off the bat, he saw the grins on his students' faces.

"What?" he asked his students.

"Sir, Ms. Francisco is single," Regino Sandico spoke up. "And she's very much available."

"What are you talking about—" Jonathan caught the gist of his statement. "Knock it off. I don't even know her."

"So get to know her some more, sir!" Regino told him. The rest of the class expressed their agreement.

Jonathan raised his index finger in his "quiet-class" gesture. The students obeyed reluctantly. "No matchmaking, please," he told them. "Especially when it's me you're trying to match with someone. Besides, I've got enough trouble dealing with all of you. Take out one whole sheet of paper; we've got an essay test today!" He laughed gleefully as his students began to comply grudgingly with his instructions. "No complaints—you have to practice your English, remember?"

He watched with quiet satisfaction as they went to work. For one thing, they weren't saying anything about him and Francesca. It wasn't that he didn't think she was worth hanging out with—and that was the extent of his interest in her, he told himself rather more firmly than necessary—he just didn't consider it aboveboard to be fraternizing with a co-worker. The last time he did that, he mused, he wound up…well, he wound up giving up a large part of his life and accepting a job offer from his old English teacher.

_Water under the bridge,_ he reminded himself, leaning back in his chair and reading though his notes again, writing out a rough draft of his article. Since his editor-in-chief accepted his idea about covering the talent show (apparently, his editor actually remembered when Holy Redeemer produced consistently excellent artistic talent) so he wanted his work to be just right.

Someone walked up to his desk and handed in her paper. It was, to no surprise on his part, Cielo.

"Done already?" Jonathan remarked.

"Yes, sir," Cielo said.

"All right. Please return to your seat, Ms. Guzman, and wait for the rest of the class to finish." He put Cielo's paper underneath his reference book and resumed his work on the draft of his article. A few minutes later, the rest of the class began to hand in their papers. When he'd collected them and shoved them into his plastic folder, he said: "So—who among you have auditioned already?"

The class spoke among themselves and then Regino said: "None of us, sir."

Jonathan's eyebrow arched upward like The Rock's. "Is that so, Mr. Sandico? And why might that be?"

"Because we want it to be a class production, sir," Shira told him. "We decided that whoever comes up with a good idea for a performance, then the entire class would support them."

"I see." Jonathan considered that point for a few moments before saying: "And thus far, your idea is a dance number?"

"Yes, sir," Shira said. "We've got the group together already."

"Will the members of the group stand up, please?" he asked. Shira, Gina, Kaye Caliwanagan, Talina Hadar rose from their seats—to be joined by Helen Subanon. Again, Jonathan was a bit surprised. From what he knew, Helen used to run with Barbie Viceral and her two lackeys. But then she transferred sections for some unspecified reason and was now out of the orbit of her former clique.

"There are five of you now?" he asked.

"Yes, sir," Gina replied. "Helen decided to join us and she's been helping choreograph our number."

"Is she any good at it?" Jonathan asked candidly.

Shira nodded. "She's very good, sir." Gina seconded that opinion.

Jonathan drummed his fingers on his desk, eyeing Helen evenly. She looked back at him, as if daring him to ask the unspoken question on his mind. He decided not to; instead he said: "When are you going to audition?"

"Either tomorrow or Friday, sir," Regino answered. "We're still picking the music and designing the costumes."

"You're cutting it pretty close," Jonathan pointed out. "I hope you realize that if you don't do well during the audition, it's going to reflect badly on the entire class."

"We know that, sir," Shira said. "And we're going to do our best to make sure that we pass the audition."

"You'd better," Jonathan told them. "Remember—I'm going to be writing about this whole talent show and I don't want to have to write that you guys suck."

"How are the auditions going, sir?" Regino asked.

"Not so bad," Jonathan replied. "But I haven't seen anything that would make me sit up and notice, if you understand what I mean."

"So there hasn't been anybody good yet?" Shira wanted to know.

"I'm not saying there weren't any good performances," Jonathan explained. "There were. It's just that if I were the one running the whole thing, I want the show to be extra special since it's supposed to be the highlight of the school year next to commencement for the seniors—at least that's what the principal said. So I want to assemble a lineup of talents that can deliver really memorable acts on stage."

Shira and the others were silent. What their teacher had said struck a chord in them; he was right, after all. The talent show wasn't just about letting the students show off their abilities on stage. It wasn't just about raising money for the school. It was about bringing the school together. The talent show was something that allowed Holy Redeemer to take some pride in itself, in the people who made up the entire school.

"We promise you, sir," Shira told him. "We're going to do our best. No—we'll do better than our best."

After briefly discussing the following day's lesson with his class and assigning their homework, Jonathan left the room to go to the auditorium where the last of the day's auditions were taking place. He took the video camera out of his shirt pocket and turned it on, reviewing the footage recorded in its memory.

"Sir!" he heard someone call him. He turned around to see Barbie Viceral, followed by her two sidekicks and a bunch of other girls.

"Are you coming to watch us audition for the talent show?" she asked as she approached him.

"I'm covering it for a magazine that I'm working for," Jonathan said.

"Oh?" Brenda said. "What magazine is that, sir?"

"_Smash_," Jonathan replied. "It's kind of a pop-culture journal." When he saw the blank look on Brenda's face, he added: "It's sort of like _Pulp_."

"Yuck," Rita said, "that magazine looks like it's made for drug addicts and perverts."

"Well," Jonathan said with a slight smirk on his face, "it's not all that bad. Although I have to admit, it's not one of my favorite things to read."

"Is that a video camera?" Brenda wanted to know, noticing the machine in Jonathan's hands. "Are you going to record the auditions, sir?"

Jonathan shrugged. "Uh-huh. I need it so that I can report on the auditions accurately."

"You couldn't have asked for a better subject than me, sir," Barbie said. "Isn't that right, girls?"

"That is so true," Rita said. "Barbie is so drop-dead gorgeous," Brenda added. The other girls tagging along agreed with their opinions.

Jonathan refrained from playing off Brenda's comment; instead, he said: "In that case, I'll make sure I get some good footage of you."

"You can start now, if you want, sir." Barbie stood in front of Jonathan and assume what he figured was her idea of a model's pose, complete with a look on her face that was supposed to be saucy. To Jonathan's eye, she reminded him of a groupie that he once ran into backstage during a concert he watched in Los Angeles. She tried seducing him but he declined for fear that she was incubating some form of STD inside her.

"Uh, nice," he said diplomatically, pretending to shoot footage of her. "But I think you'd better get to the gym already. I'll just wait for you and your crew to come out and perform."

"Thank you, sir," Barbie said. "You'll be impressed—I promise you that." She and her entourage made their way to the gym's side entrance. He went in by way of the back door that passed by the control room where the lighting and sound systems were operated. He found a nice, unobtrusive spot to be able to film the performers as they demonstrated their talents and then activated the camera.

Barbie bent down as she warmed up with a series of stretches, just like she learned in dance class when she was younger. Her backup dancers did a few stretches of their own but mainly chatted among themselves.

_I wish they'd take this seriously,_ she thought with more than a touch of annoyance. Just because her crew members were a year below her, that didn't mean that they could slack off in such a blatant manner.

Barbie finally decided to crack the whip. "Are you going to warm up or not?" she snapped. Her backups fell quiet and she led them through another round of stretching. After that, she went through the routine, making sure that each girl had the steps down perfect. She didn't want anyone losing their rhythm and breaking the pace of the number.

A few moments later, Brenda and Rita approached her. "Barbie," Brenda said, "it's your turn."

"Good luck, Barbie," Rita added.

"I don't need luck," Barbie told her witheringly. "I'm too good to need luck." She led her group to the stage and signaled everyone to take their places. One of the technicians handed her a wireless mike as she went to the front of the group. Despite her initial confidence, Barbie actually felt a twinge of nervousness. Once more, her memories of losing out to Raquel Montes threatened to flood her mind.

She looked at the gym and saw Jonathan at the back, the camera aimed at the stage. His free hand came up and he pointed at her with two fingers. Barbie took it as her cue to start. She still felt a little nervous as their number began but she quickly got over it. All she had to do, she soon discovered, was focus on the camera—or, perhaps more accurately, on the person holding the camera. She maintained eye contact with Jonathan as much as possible throughout her performance, shutting out everything else. When their number finally ended, she felt as if she had been in a trance. Jonathan stood where he was but Barbie thought she could see a hint of a smile on his face. She curtsied just to let him know that she appreciated his encouragement.

Jonathan had to admit: despite what he thought of her, Barbie had talent. He remembered his words to Shira and her group. From all indications, they really would have to do incredibly well to even come close to the performance he just witnessed.

He was checking the footage he'd taken when Barbie ran up to him. "Sir, how did we do? Be honest—were we good?" she wanted to know.

"I think you were very good, senior," he said. "You've probably got a better than even chance of getting into the final lineup."

"Are you just saying that to make me feel better?" Barbie said. "You can tell me if it wasn't good, sir."

"Ms. Viceral, your performance was first-rate," Jonathan assured her. "If I were one of the judges, I'd include you in the show. However, it isn't in my hands."

"You really think we'll pass the audition, sir?" Barbie pressed him in a somewhat doubtful tone of voice that he didn't hear her use too often.

Jonathan gave her a cheerful smile. "You've got a good chance of making it. So don't worry too much, okay?"

"All right, sir," Barbie said. "If you say so, I guess it will be okay."

Jonathan nodded. "That's what I said. Now get back to class if you still have any. I'm going to stick around here for a few more performances."

"Okay. Thanks, sir." Barbie favored him with another winning smile and then she told her two sidekicks to bring her stuff. Then she exited the gym. Jonathan watched her with a bemused expression on his face before turning his attention back to the next performer on stage.

Three performances later, Jonathan headed back to his classes. Once he was done with them, he went to the faculty room to pack up for the day. Melanie wasn't around so he passed by the gym one more time to tell Chris he was going home.

"You're off in a hurry," Chris remarked. "What's going on?"

"Visitors," Jonathan replied. "One of your former players is coming over."

Chris picked up a loose ball rolling his way and threw it back towards his players. "You mean Charlie?"

"Yeah, Charlie Gonsalves," Jonathan said. "He's thinking of auditioning for the talent show so wants to jam at my house."

"Need a drummer?" Chris asked jokingly.

"Nah, not this time," Jonathan replied. "It's just him playing guitar anyway. It's not as if I'm going to be playing with him. By the way, Tecs and Larry are picking me up today."

Chris' interest was piqued by that little tidbit. "Yeah? Are they going to your house too?"

Jonathan nodded. "I think they've got a song that they want written. They want my help, for what it's worth."

"Well, maybe it's going to be worth a lot," Chris said. He blew his whistle and practice on the basketball court stopped. "I have to get back to my team, man. You be careful going home, okay?"

"Sure," Jonathan said. He was about to leave but Chris stopped him. "And thanks for taking care of Charlie. And Nico," he told Jonathan.

Jonathan shrugged. "I'm their teacher, at least for now. What else am I supposed to do?"

"That's true." Chris clapped his shoulder. He knew that the minute Jonathan could get out, he would. But he was doing some good, even if it meant not following every rule there was.

"Well, I'll see you and Melanie tomorrow, Chris," Jonathan said, walking away. "Don't push those kids too hard."

Charlie was already waiting outside while Jonathan was speaking with Chris at the gym. He had his guitar with him in its protective case which he slung over his shoulder next to his backpack. His watch showed that it had just turned four in the afternoon. He quietly thanked Mrs. Ulan for allowing him to get off his afternoon shift early. Usually, he helped close down the canteen before being allowed to go home.

"Hey, Charlie!" someone shouted. He turned to his left, thinking it was Jonathan but it wasn't. It was Milo Yulo.

"What do you want, Milo?" he asked, not bothering to conceal his annoyance at seeing the skinny, crew-cut gangster-rapper wannabe.

"Cool, man, just be cool," Milo told him smoothly. "Is that any way to talk to an old friend?" Charlie's reaction was a grimace. He and Milo used to be in the same "fraternity". The two of them, in fact were among the top members of their particular organization. The head of their frat—a local thug named Idol—regarded them both as worth successors since the two of them displayed the aggressiveness and ruthlessness needed to maintain their frat's top position in the area around the school. More often than not, when there was a fight between their frat and another group, Milo and Charlie were right in the middle of it. But although they were both fearless when it came to street fights, Charlie was much more intelligent than Milo. He had the ability to talk his way out of trouble and, on more than one occasion, had been able to convince a rival frat to either walk away before any violence took place or—to Idol's delight—persuade them to become allies. Those talents had Charlie earmarked for leadership down the line—until he wised up and quit the frat.

"What do you want?" Charlie repeated.

"You've got your guitar again, huh, Charlie?" Milo remarked. "You're playing again, huh? Remember when we used to jam, Charlie? That was a lot of fun." Milo was actually the one who taught Charlie the basics of playing guitar but it didn't take long for Charlie to outdo him. Milo, for one, had no patience to expand his talent. Charlie, once he mastered the basics, began to study the instrument on his own, sometimes even skipping frat activities to stay in the library and read about guitar technique and music in general.

"Yeah, we had fun," Charlie admitted, then added: "That's why I decided to stick with playing guitar instead of getting myself beaten up every night."

"Hey, Charlie—_we're_ the ones who beat people up, remember?" Milo corrected him.

"Whatever, Milo," Charlie said. "Anyway, that's the past. I don't need that anymore."

"Okay, that's what you want, Charlie," Milo said, hands up in a placatory gesture, "then that's what you'll get. I know you quit because you wanted to play your guitar and be a big rock star, you know?" He smiled, showing a mouth missing several teeth. Those that remained were crooked and discolored.

"No, I quit because I didn't want to throw my future away," Charlie told him. Just then, Jonathan came out.

"Hey, Charlie," Jonathan said, completely ignoring Milo. "You got out early."

"Yeah, I did," Charlie said. "I told Mrs. Ulan I had to go run an important errand with you. Isn't that right?"

Jonathan smiled wryly. Well, in a way, Charlie had told the truth to his boss in the canteen, "Yeah, I guess it is."

"Good afternoon, sir," Milo greeted Jonathan, smiling in an eager-to-please kind of way. "Sidecar, sir?" He gestured towards the pedicab he had parked nearby.

"We've got a ride," Jonathan told him as he watched a gray FX approaching the school. "Thanks anyway." The FX parked right in front of them and the driver's-side window opened to reveal Gerry "Tecs" Tecson at the wheel.

"Hey, Jonathan—hope we aren't late," Tecs said with a smile that could still make the ladies swoon, even if it was a whole lot older than it was.

"Not at all," Jonathan assured him. "You're just in time." He turned towards Charlie. "Let's go, junior."

"I'll see you again, Charlie," Milo called after him as he boarded the FX. Charlie didn't bother to respond. The FX drove off, leaving Milo standing where he was, thinking to himself, _Oh, yeah, you bet, Charlie, you're going to see me again. Oh, yes, you will._

"What was that all about, junior?" Jonathan asked Charlie as they were waiting at an intersection for the light to turn green.

"What, sir?" Charlie replied absently. His mind was on tuning his guitar.

"What did Yulo want from you?" Jonathan wanted to know.

"Nothing, sir," Charlie told him. "He was probably just looking for someone to talk to and saw me."

Jonathan considered that thought. "He didn't try to recruit you for anything?"

"No, sir. He didn't."

"That's good. I suppose he's harmless now but it wouldn't hurt to keep your distance."

"I will, sir."

Jonathan nodded and let the subject go. Charlie went back to tuning his guitar.


	5. Chapter 5

The FX arrived at Jonathan's house in about an hour's time

The FX arrived at Jonathan's house after an hour's drive. As they were pulling up to the curb, Larry Fortuno saw something that made him break into a wry grin. "Hey, Jon—your number-one fan's waiting."

Jonathan peered out the window and spotted Louella "Ella" Moran sitting on the sidewalk in front of his house, idly smoking a cigarette. When she saw the FX, she stubbed it out with her boot.

"About time you got here!" she yelled as they got out of the FX.

"Hello, Ella," Jonathan greeted her. "Have you been waiting long?"

"Nah, just half an hour," Ella said. Then she noticed Charlie standing slightly behind Jonathan. "Well, now—who's this kid?" she asked.

"This is Charlie," Jonathan replied. "He's one of my students. He'll be jamming with Tecs and Larry today, I guess. If it's okay with them."

"Yeah?" She eyed Charlie from head to toe. "He's good-looking, Jon. More good-looking than you were at his age." She cackled loudly. Tecs and Larry laughed along with her.

"How would you know that?" Jonathan retorted. "We didn't know each other when I was that old. Besides, you always thought I was good-looking."

"Well, you still are, anyway," Ella said, putting an arm around his shoulders. "Now are we going to get jamming or not?"

Jonathan led them into his house. They all went directly to the studio where he often let his friends practice and started setting up their instruments. Larry checked out the drum kit and did a few practice rolls. "Good thing Chris kept his kit in good condition," he remarked. "No need to bring all of mine with me every time we practice here."

"He comes by to fix it up if it needs fixing," Jonathan said as he brought out a few microphone stands. "He can still play them well enough."

"Coach comes here to jam too?" Charlie asked.

Jonathan nodded. "Whenever he's got free time, he does." He handed Charlie a microphone. Ella took the other one. Tecs elevated the mike stand and put his mike on the clamp. "I guess you guys are all ready."

"Aren't you joining us?" Ella asked.

"Not today," Jonathan said. "I've got test papers to correct. If you need anything, I'll be in my study." Jonathan's study was connected to the studio by a soundproofed door. That way he could just step in whenever he felt like it, particularly during those days when teaching became a large-scale hassle for him. Thankfully, that hadn't happened in a while. "Charlie, you behave yourself or you can find another place to rehearse, got it?"

"Got it, sir," Charlie said.

Jonathan nodded and then left the studio. "Okay," Tecs said, "let's just see start out nice and easy, all right?" He began to pluck the opening chords to a song. Charlie recognized it as one of Wild Heart's early hits. He joined in on rhythm. Larry laid down a nice beat. Ella joined Tecs on the vocals and they were off and running.

Jonathan heard their music faintly through the gaps in the door. It _almost_ made him want to get his guitar and join them. He shrugged and then entered his study. He turned on his radio, found a classical-music CD and stuck it into the player. Then he took out a sheaf of test papers from a folder and got to work.

About an hour and a half later, he heard the buzzer at the gate. He went to answer it and found Regino, Cielo, Shira, Gina, Kaye Caliwanagan, Talina Hadar, and Helen Subanon milling outside.

"How was the trip?" Jonathan asked as he let them inside.

"Traffic was a bit heavy," Regino replied. "Sorry if we're late, sir."

"Hey, it's your practice time," Jonathan said. "Anyway, you can take this entire space." He gestured towards the front yard and the driveway. "Did you bring your music?"

Helen took a handful of CD's out of her gym bag. "I brought some, sir. But could we borrow a stereo or something?"

"Sure. Wait here." He went back inside and ran into Ella on his way to his room.

"Hey, Jon—where are you going?" she asked.

"Up to my room," he replied. "I need to get something for my students."

"More company?"

"School talent show. They need a place to practice and the studio's not big enough for all of you." He went inside his room and grabbed his portable stereo. It was one of the first things he bought with the money he made form playing in his band. He was about to leave when he noticed Ella standing in the doorway with a smile on her face.

"What?" he asked.

"I seem to remember this place," Ella told him, her smile growing broader.

"Knock it off, Elle," Jonathan said, moving past her. "There are children present." But he had the beginnings of a smile on his face as he spoke.

"Children," Ella repeated. "I always wondered what that would be like."

"So get married or something. No shortage of guys who want to walk down the aisle with you."

"They want to get in my pants, Jon," she corrected him. "That's different."

"Don't tell me you haven't found the right guy yet," Jonathan cracked over his shoulder as he stepped outside the front door with his stereo.

Ella shrugged. "I did. Once. But he had other things on his mind."

With his guests taken care of, Jonathan returned to his study and began to make headway correcting the test papers in front of him.

He heard a knock on the door. He opened it and saw Cielo.

"What is it, freshman?" he asked. "Does your group need anything?"

"Not really, sir," Cielo replied. "They're okay. I was just wondering if I could do my homework here. I'm not doing anything out there anyway."

"Don't you want to watch them practice?"

"I'll do that after I finish my homework, sir."

Jonathan nodded. "You want that desk near the window or my table?"

"The desk will be fine, sir."

"Go right ahead then. If you need help, let me know."

Cielo nodded. "Yes, sir. Thank you, sir." She went over to the desk, took out her assignments from her bag, and began working on the first one. Jonathan watched her for a while and wondered, once again, if she was as good as Raquel. _Then again, that's not my concern, is it?_ he told himself and returned to his own academic work.

Cielo finished ahead of him so he put her to work correcting the remainder of the test papers on his table while he graded the ones he was finished with. When they were done, he looked at the clock on the wall and was gratified to see that only about an hour had passed. He had plenty of time on his hands and, as expected, his attention turned to the studio.

"Hey, freshman," he said to Cielo, "do you want to watch somebody else practicing?"

"Who, sir?" Cielo wanted to know.

"Come on," he said, getting up from his chair. "Be quiet, though." They went into the small recording booth and Jonathan had her sit with him at the console. He turned on the audio so that they could hear the jam session in the studio. Tecs, Larry, Ella, and Charlie were doing what sounded like a gospel-rock version of "The River And The Sun".

"I know that song," Cielo remarked. "_Ate_ Raquel listens to that almost all the time."

"Is that right?" Jonathan asked.

Cielo nodded. "It's _Ate_'s theme song for herself and _Kuya_ Nico."

"Oh." Jonathan watched his friends jamming and his eyes strayed towards the closet where he kept two guitars. One was his. The other was a guitar…somebody who needed money sold it to him.

"They're good," Cielo said.

"See those two guys?" Jonathan pointed to Tecs and Larry. "They're the band who made 'The River And The Sun'."

"Really?" Cielo's eyes went wide in wonder.

"Yup," Jonathan said. "They come here to practice from time to time." When the song ended, he flipped on the P.A. system and spoke into the console mike: "Nice going, guys. Very Elvis, really. I nearly had a tear in my eye." Ella flipped him the bird and he laughed. "Anyway, one of my guests liked it." He told her to come closer to the mike. "Tell them what you thought of the song, freshman."

"It was nice," Cielo said shyly. "I wish we could sing that in church."

"How about it, Tecs? What do you say, Larry?" Jonathan said. "Want to teach the freshman here how to sing it?"

"Can she sing?" Tecs asked.

"Want to find out?" Jonathan offered.

"Let her in," Ella said. "We'll see what we can do with her."

Jonathan shut off the mike. "Come on, freshman," he told Cielo. "Let's have a little fun with my friends."

"Oh, sir, I don't know," Cielo said. "I'm not a professional singer like they are."

"Neither's one of the guys jamming with them," Jonathan told them. "Come on—don't worry about it." Cielo followed him reluctantly into the studio. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Charlie sit up in surprise.

"And who might this be?" Ella asked. "Another student of yours?"

"Yeah." Jonathan introduced his friends: "Cielo, this is Ella Moran. The guy with the guitar is Tecs Tecson, and the drummer's Larry Fortuno." He turned towards Charlie: "This is Charlie. He's in the same school as you are." He put a hand on Cielo's shoulder. "Cielo here is a freshman so no swearing, no talk about getting drunk or getting high. And no talk about sex, either. Teach her that arrangement you just did. And if you think she can sing, then let her jam with you guys. Okay?"

"Right," Ella said. "Come here, honey. You can use this mike." Jonathan handed Ella a wireless mike. "Breathe first, honey. Do you know how to do vocal exercises?"

Cielo nodded. "Yes, ma'am." She demonstrated the exercises she'd learned during choir practice.

"You're in a church choir? So was I." Jonathan saw that Ella was actually happy to have another girl in the studio and one she could teach, at that. He remembered her remark about children. As she prepped Cielo to sing with her and the others, he quietly made his exit.

Once he was done with his work, he stepped outside to see how Regino and his group were doing. Helen Subanon was going over a few steps with Talina and Kaye. Shira and Gina were sitting on the veranda steps.

"How's practice?" Jonathan asked.

"Not so bad, sir," Regino replied. "Girls, Mr. Castillo wants to see what we've done so far."

"All right," Helen said. She told the other girls to get in formation. Regino played their music and the girls began to move. Helen took the lead; Shira, Gina, and the others followed.

Jonathan watched them, trying to get a sense of what they were doing. He thought back to Barbie's audition. Her group's number had Barbie's stamp all over it; it was superb in terms of technique and showmanship. This group, however…he felt that something was lacking. When they were done, they took a bow and waited for his reaction. Jonathan said nothing at first, trying to come up with an appropriate comment that wouldn't deflate their spirits so much. Finally, he said: "It was good."

Helen looked him in the eye and said: "What else, sir?"

Jonathan shrugged. "It was good. What else do you want me to say?"

"But not as good as Barbie's audition, right?" Helen asked.

Jonathan thought about sugarcoating his reply but realized that honesty was the better policy this time: "Hers was _way_ better."

"How much better, sir?" Shira wanted to know.

"Let's just say that if you auditioned immediately after they did," Jonathan said, "you'd flunk." He stood up. "Hey, I don't know a thing about dancing so I could be wrong. But the way you guys are now, well, let's just say you have to do better. A lot better, to be precise."

The girls were silent for several long moments and then Helen spoke: "Then that's what we're going to do."

"You keep working on your number," Jonathan told them. "I'll call you when _meryenda_'s ready." He went back inside and headed for the kitchen.

"All right, cut," Tecs said. He put his guitar down.

"What is it?" Ella asked.

"I'm getting hungry," Tecs said. "How about you guys?"

"Actually, so am I," Larry said. "I'm taking a bathroom break first, though." He got up and left the studio. Tecs followed him. Ella knew they would be sneaking a cigarette in the backyard since Jonathan forbade smoking inside the house or within his breathing range.

"I'll go find Jonathan and inform him that his guests are hungry," Ella said. "What about you two?"

"I'll just wait until you all come back," Charlie said.

"How about you, honey?" she asked Cielo.

"I'll just stay here, _Ate_," Cielo replied, "unless you want me to go with you."

"No need," Ella told her. "I can find Jon easy." With that she left the two schoolmates. Charlie put his guitar on the stand next to the mike; then he got up and stretched.

Cielo watched him, wondering if she should say anything. Finally, she simply complimented him: "You play guitar really well."

Charlie turned towards her. "Thanks," he said, smiling slightly. "You sing pretty well."

"Thanks," Cielo said. "You're a senior, aren't you?"

"Nope," Charlie replied, sitting back down and picking up his guitar. "Well, I was supposed to be in fourth year this year but…I kind of got held back. You get what I mean?"

"You failed more than one subject?" Cielo asked then added: "I mean, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

"Nah, it's okay." Charlie adjusted the strings on his guitar as he spoke. "I _did_ fail more than two subjects. Actually, I nearly got kicked out."

"How come?" Cielo wanted to know.

"I got involved with some bad people," Charlie told her. "I was involved in one of the frats outside the school. Actually, it was more of a gang than a frat. I got arrested by the police after we were caught during a rumble."

"Oh, I see." Cielo knew from her _Ate_ Raquel and _Kuya_ Nico's stories that Holy Redeemer was once a trouble-prone area and many students were expelled for joining frats. She was a little surprised, however, to find out that Charlie had been a frat member. He didn't look like the type.

As if he read her mind, Charlie said: "I don't look like the kind of guy who'd get in fights, do I?" Apparently, she'd been looking at him—probably staring at him—and it nearly made Cielo blush in embarrassment. "Well, I was," he went on, "and I was one of the biggest troublemakers around. I got lucky because Coach Corpuz, and Mrs. Corpuz spoke up for me. And they got Mr. Castillo to look out for me. Now all I have to do is keep myself out of trouble and pass all my back subjects so that I can have a chance to enter fourth year next year."

"That's nice," Cielo remarked. "It's a good thing you have some good teachers helping you."

"Yeah, it is." He ran off a few chords. Then he said: "You're one of Mr. Castillo's students, right? You're in his first year class?"

"One of them," Cielo said. "How did you know?"

"I saw you and your friends in the canteen once," Charlie replied. "You were about to get into a fight with Barbie Viceral."

"Oh." Cielo had almost forgotten about that incident. "That's right. Good thing you and Mr. Castillo were there. Thanks for helping us."

Charlie shrugged. "I just didn't want any trouble in the canteen. I work there, you know."

"You do?"

"Yeah. It's part of the deal that Mr. Castillo and Coach Corpuz got for me so that I could stay in school. I have to work at the canteen between classes. Fortunately, Mrs. Ulan and I worked out a pretty good schedule."

Cielo nodded. "Good for you."

"Yeah." He went back to plucking at his guitar. Pretty soon, the studio was filled with music again. Cielo didn't recognize the tune, however, so she asked: "What song is that?"

"It's not a song," was Charlie's reply. "Or it's not a song yet."

"You're composing a song for the talent show?" Cielo asked.

"I don't know if it's going to be ready then but, yeah, I'm trying to write a song." His fingers gave the guitar one final strum.

"The melody is beautiful." There was honest admiration in Cielo's voice and it flattered Charlie. "Thanks," he said. "That's why I came here today. I was hoping that Mr. Castillo could help me finish it."

Cielo thought back to the pictures that she and her friends saw in their teacher's computer. She wondered if Charlie knew about them and considered asking him; after a moment, though, she thought better of it. Instead she asked: "Why are you asking Mr. Castillo to help you write a song?"

"Well, he is good at English," Charlie said, bearing in mind that he wasn't allowed to tell anyone about Jonathan's former occupation. "And the song's in English. For some reason, I'm thinking of it in English."

"Oh." Cielo smiled. "You picked the right person to help you with it."

"Yeah," Charlie agreed. "I hope we can get some of it written today."

Jonathan was taking something out of the oven when Ella found him. "Just in time," she remarked. "The boys are getting hungry." She went over to the dish on the counter. It held baked macaroni.

Jonathan handed her a couple of potholders and oven mitts. "Get the other dish, would you?" he asked as he took a pitcher of juice out of the refrigerator. Ella did as she was told. In that dish was what looked like bread pudding.

"Isn't this a bit too much carbs, Jon?" she asked as she set the dish alongside the baked macaroni.

"It's going to keep them from starving," Jonathan said. "So how did Cielo do?"

"She can sing very well, Jon," Ella replied. "Why do you ask?"

He didn't answer her right away. Instead he started slicing the bread pudding. When he was done, he asked: "Is the teachable?"

"Yeah," Ella said. "She got that gospel version of Tecs and Larry's song after only a few tries." She looked him in the eye. "What's on your mind, Jon?"

"I want you to teach her two songs," Jonathan said. "You know them both very well so it shouldn't be a problem. The only hitch is whether she can do rock and roll or not."

"I think she can," Ella said. "What songs do you want me to teach her?"

He picked up a CD from the kitchen table. "Tracks Seven and Nine are the ones I want you to teach her. Can you manage it before we eat?"

"I think so. What's this all about?" she wanted to know as he went back to the studio. They ran into Tecs and Larry along the way.

"Hey, man," Tecs said, "are we going to order in a pizza or what?"

"We've got food, don't worry," Jonathan said. "Right now, I want you guys to try something for me."

Larry caught his tone of voice right away. "Sure, man." When they entered the studio, Jonathan told Cielo to go to the booth with Ella. As they were leaving the rehearsal area, Jonathan, Tecs, and Larry started setting up another pair of amplifiers and microphones.

"What's going on?" Charlie asked as he was helping them.

Tecs watched Jonathan head for the booth to get some additional equipment. "I think you're about to get your wish, Charlie."

Helen and the other girls were resting on the veranda steps when Jonathan came outside. "Let me guess," he said, seeing the looks on their faces. "Nothing's working, huh?"

"Well, sir, we've got a new idea," Gina said. "We just need to fix it a bit."

"I've got an idea of my own," Jonathan said. "Come inside and see for yourself." He turned and went back into the house. His students followed him and were surprised when he led them past his study and into the studio. He told them to wait and then entered the booth. Cielo sat there with headphones. Ella was taking out the CD.

"Is she good to go?" Jonathan asked.

"As good as she can be at short notice," Ella said.

"All right. Take her back in there." Ella led Cielo back to the rehearsal space. Jonathan told his students to enter the studio. "Sorry about the lack of chairs," he said. "Just make yourselves as comfortable as possible and listen. All right?" They nodded. He opened a locker and took out two guitars. Once inside the studio, he handed one guitar—a red one—to Charlie.

"Hey, is this—?" he asked.

"It used to be," Jonathan replied. He plugged in his guitar and began tuning it. Charlie did the same.

"Isn't that the guy from the canteen?" Shira asked Gina.

Gina nodded. "Yeah. And Cielo's in there too. I wonder what's going on?"

When everything seemed satisfactory, Jonathan looked over at Cielo. "Try not to get nervous, freshman. That goes for you too, junior. Just follow my lead. Is everyone ready?" Tecs, Larry, and Ella replied in the affirmative.

"Cielo—are you ready?"

Ella smiled at Cielo and whispered: "Just follow _my_ lead, honey. And, like your teacher said, don't get nervous. Keep your eyes on me. Okay?"

Cielo nodded. She gripped the mike tightly, feeling butterflies fluttering in her stomach.

"Headsets on," Jonathan said. Then he began a countdown. When he reached one, he began to strum the opening chords of "Hit Me With Your Best Shot". Tecs—now on bass—and Larry set the rhythm. Charlie followed. Exactly on cue, Ella and Cielo joined in on vocals. Ella adjusted her voice to let Cielo's be heard but after a while, the girl's voice was taking the lead. Ella was content to do backup. When it was time for the guitar solo, Jonathan's instincts took over as his fingers flew across the strings.

Charlie watched in awe. Even though he knew about Jonathan's background and saw a few of the concert videos of him and his band, seeing him play live was still something entirely different. Jonathan ended the song with a bit of an improvisational flourish and Charlie felt like clapping.

The students in the booth got the jump on him. Though the soundproof glass cut out the sound if it, they were applauding madly. Then they went into the studio. "That was great, sir!" Regino said.

"Thanks." Jonathan looked at Helen. "Were you watching?"

"Yes, sir," Helen said.

"Think you can make something out of that?" he asked her.

Helen thought about it. Already, the seed of an idea was germinating in her mind. "I might," she finally said.

"Good. Let's all get something to eat first and then we'll play another song." Jonathan placed his guitar on its stand. Charlie placed the other guitar beside it. Then they filed out of the studio and headed for the kitchen.

"You did very well, honey," Ella said, putting an arm around Cielo's shoulder.

"I did?" she asked.

"Sure you did," Charlie told her. "I was impressed. And it looks like Mr. Castillo was too."

"Thanks." Cielo smiled at him. He smiled back. Ella put an arm around him and said: "Come on, you two. You can flirt after we eat." She laughed out loud and Jonathan looked at her. She did seem much happier having Cielo as a protégé of sorts. And he was happy that Regino's group had a new option to look at for their audition. Part of him thought it was cheating to help them but he ignored it completely. Another part of him was rejoicing, glad that he'd finally picked up his guitar again. For now, Jonathan didn't bother to ignore that part of him either.


End file.
